


Bloodied & Faded

by phantomhive3108



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Adamant Fortress, Angst, Brother and Sister - Freeform, Childhood, Crossing Parallels, Denerim, Escape, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff, Haven (Dragon Age), Highever, Judgement, Kirwall, M/M, Mages, Multi, Origins, Ostagar, Redcliffe, Reunion, Revenge, Sacrifice, Skyhold, Smut, Starkhaven, Templars, The Chantry, Therinfal Redoubt, Val Royeaux
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-03-30 12:40:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 23
Words: 35,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3937150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomhive3108/pseuds/phantomhive3108
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>9:41 Dragon<br/>As the Breach threatens to tear Thedas apart, the lives of three heroes falls into the hands of fate.</p><p>Enchanter Trevelyan wakes to find herself entwined in the founding of the modern day Inquisition. With little to no say in the matter, she resigns herself to walk the path laid out before her, seeking comfort in the friends who inexplicably rally around her as if pulled in by a gravitational force.</p><p>Four years after the events at Kirkwall, Mila Hawke resurfaces and seeks to right the wrongs committed there. Desperate for closure on the emotions that have plagued her for so long, she begins to walk a gruelling path alone, knowing full well it may lead to the end.</p><p>As the tides change, Ellaria Cousland leaves her Warden husband's side and chases rumours of trouble half way across the world. Believing the source to their salvation to be at the other end, she blindly runs towards it, determined not to let a single soul stand between her and a happy ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rhana

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first piece in the Dragon Age fandom and I have to say I'm super excited to finally get this underway. The characters are based on my playthroughs so you'll find some headcannon in there but other than that Thedas and it's people belong to Bioware.
> 
> I apologise for the some of the dialogue in the opening Trevelyan chapters as they are pulled almost word for word from the original script as it fit so well but I promise you more development in the future.
> 
> Finally, In the name of keeping future plot points a surprise, the tags will be updated as of when they appear in the story.
> 
> Please feel free to give me feedback and please please please let me know if you enjoy it as you're much more likely to see updates.

Pain. Sharp pain. This was her first thought. Everything else was a blur.

She tried to move her body but nothing would respond, even her thoughts wouldn’t form coherently. She heard whispers. Or maybe that was just the sound of blood rushing to her head as she willed some sort of physical reaction out of her limbs.

Then the pain again. She couldn’t tell what hurt, or more precisely, what didn’t. She groaned. She felt her weight shift abruptly and suddenly felt like she was falling. Falling forward, she noted, but something caught her. A hand? She was being moved.

Blurred shapes came into focus and whispers turned into raised voices. A bright flash blurred her sight once more, followed by the pain, which was fast becoming too familiar. Someone screamed, or was it her? Again, that hand caught her. Almost gently, but not quite.

She realized she was on her knees, weight dangerously swaying as she started to make sense of what was happening. Her hands were cuffed before her as she knelt on cold stone. The voices, they weren’t addressing her but she was fairly certain they were about her. She tried to get their attention but her tongue felt too big for her mouth so the words jammed in her throat. 

She must have made some noise because there was a pause before heavy boots took measured steps towards her. A firm hand grasped her shoulder and pushed her slightly back, keeping a tight grip on her to stop her from falling too far. She looked up at the woman before her. A soldier. No, a warrior. Maybe it was the scars on her face or just the way she could move her with as much effort as a child handled a doll, but the woman before her was a force to be reckoned with.

“Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now.”

A spark followed by intense pain cut off all sense of confusion as her mind turned to figuring out where it was coming from. As it melted away she followed the pain down her arm to her hand but when she managed to unscrew her eyes all she saw was green light. Her hand was blurred before her as she tried to focus on it, focus on the source of the pain. It didn’t make sense.

The warrior waited until she had ridden out the last wave of pain before removing her hand from her shoulder, seemingly unperturbed by what was happening. Was she being tortured? Was that it? What did they want from her?

The warrior slowly circled around her. “The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead.” She came back around to her. “Except for you.”

The Conclave? She remembered being there. Remembered the anticipation, the tension as everybody waited side by side. Hands hovering over sword pommels and staves. A single spark could have set the place alight. But she didn’t remember a spark, not then.

“You…” She tried to speak and found her voice cracked when the words forced their way out. She concentrated as she reached for the sentence she all but wanted to scream. “You think I… I did it?”

The warrior reached forward and grabbed her cuffed hand to hold it up before her, the green glow following. “Then explain this.”

As if prompted, her hand sparked and shot a lancing pain up her arm and into her chest. She couldn’t tell if it was becoming less painful or if she was just growing accustomed to it. This time, when the pain faded, she saw the spark form a crude fissure on her hand, emanating a pulsing light. A threatening reminder that it was still there.

She stared at her hand, mind reeling. She tried to follow through on the different thoughts that came unbidden into her head. Each of them presenting new theories, but none leading to a rational conclusion. The only thing she could say for certain was that this was not the magic she was used to dancing along her fingers.

“I can’t… This isn’t-”

“What do you mean you can’t?” The warrior almost spat the words at her. She released her hands and they fell uselessly back into her lap following the weight of the cuffs.

“I don’t know what it is! I… None of this makes sense!”

Before she knew it the woman was on her again but this time her grip was in no way gentle. She felt the metal gauntlets bite into her arms as she shook her. The image of the doll graced her thoughts again. 

“You’re lying!”

Suddenly there was another voice. The tone was no softer but the words were. Another accent too. “We need her, Cassandra.”

The new woman stepped forward, pulling Cassandra away from her. She was different, dressed in scouting boots and light armour, hood pulled up over her head. She crouched before her, a cold blue stare watching her. “Do you remember how this happened? How this began?”

Something about her made you want to answer quickly and honestly, demonstrating cooperation. She racked her brains for the answer and found no clues except… “I remember running... Running from… Something and then… a woman?”

“A woman?”

The words were coming out as the memories came back to her, blurred and distorted. “She reached out to me but… I can’t… I don’t remember.”

The woman swiftly stood and turned to Cassandra. They exchanged words in hushed tones.

“I’ll take her to the rift.” With that the warrior concluded their conversation and the other woman left.

Cassandra turned to back to her and took three long strides before reaching down and pulling her to her feet. Her legs felt weak but the warrior held her firmly. After the initial head rush subsided the supporting arm was removed.

“Your name.”

She looked up at the woman warily, oblivious as to what might happen next.

“Rhana.”

“Alright, Rhana. Let’s go.” Cassandra turned on her heel and headed for the door the other woman had left through only moments ago.

“Wait! No. I don’t understand. What’s going on? What happened?” She was aware of how painfully shaky her voice sounded, layered thick with desperation but there was nothing she could do to hide it.

Cassandra paused and watched her. There was something in the way she looked at her. Was it pity? Sadness?

“It will be easier to show you.” The words felt heavy, full of warning. Suddenly, Rhana wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

She followed her on shaky legs but kept the pace up nonetheless, following in the warrior’s long strides. They walked down a torch lit hall and up a steep staircase, soldiers stopping to turn and look. Rhana kept her head down and focused on keeping her body upright. They came out into a small hallway where Cassandra strode over and pushed open the heavy wooden doors.

The light flooded the hall and Rhana wrenched her cuffed hands up to shield her face. The second thing she noticed was the panic. Everywhere. Everyone was shouting, barking orders, running around, it was as if the world was on fire.

Cassandra stopped further along the bridge that led from the hall. She turned to motion her forward. Rhana took measured steps out into the open and stopped almost immediately.

The sky above them was torn open into a vicious wound, which bathed them and the surrounding valley in a sickening green glow. Jagged streaks flashed into existence, reaching down to the ground and disappeared just as quickly as thunder would. And much like thunder, it never struck twice in the same place.

“We call it the Breach. It’s a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour.” Cassandra’s voice seemed distant as Rhana fixated on the swirling torrent in the sky. “It’s not the only such rift. Just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the Conclave.”

That caught her attention. “An explosion? An explosion did this?”

“This one did.”

“Unless we act, the Breach will keep growing until it swallows the world.”

Matching a particularly violent pulse in the sky, her hand sparked and lit up to match the bright hue of the emerald Breach. The pain brought her to her knees and she let out an involuntary cry. She kept her eyes on the mark as the fissure in her hand cracked up her wrist, smaller streaks spreading along her fingers and across her palm. When the pain dissipated she flexed her fingers and tightened her fist as if that might contain it.

“Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads… And it is killing you.” Cassandra knelt by her side. “It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn’t much time.”

“It may be the key? The key to what?”

“To closing the Breach. Perhaps. We’ll find out shortly. It is our only chance. And yours.”

Rhana closed her eyes. Squeezed them tight against the tears that came into her eyes without permission. None of this made sense. She spoke through gritted teeth, “You still think I did this? To myself?”

Cassandra wavered. “Not intentionally. Something clearly went wrong.”

Rhana dropped her head in exasperation.

“You want to prove your innocence? This is the only way”

She looked up at the warrior after a heavy pause and squared her shoulders. “What do I need to do?”

She thought she saw the hint of a smile on Cassandra’s, but it faded all too quickly.

“Come.”


	2. Ellaria

Ellaria hugged her legs tight to her chest, the knots in her stomach making her sick. She tried to focus on rehearsing the words she had chosen to use but her speech tumbled around her head, remaining elusive and fast becoming another reason to feel nauseous. But her mind was made up. All that she needed now was for him to return.

Wasn’t he supposed to be back already? How long could it take anyway?

She took a deep breath and tried to steady her nerves. The wait was killing her. Where was he? Should she-

“Oof! Do you know how hard it is to find dry wood this close to the coast?”

She hugged her legs a little tighter as his voice took her by surprise. She expected to feel relief at his return but the sight of him turned her stomach upside down. She couldn’t bear to meet his gaze as he continued chiming on about his “wild” firewood-fetching adventures.

He eventually noticed she wasn’t pandering to him as she was used to doing. “Are you alright, love?”

“Hm?”

Ellaria’s eyes were locked on to the dancing flames before her. She caught sight of him moving towards her out of the corner of her eye and felt her muscles clench. He crouched beside her and placed a hand on her arm.

“El?”

She snapped out of her trance and forced herself to look up at him, his pleading eyes begging her to break her silence.

“El, talk to me.”

She tried to relax her grip on her legs, but her limbs were locked in place as if keeping her from falling apart. His touch grew heavy on her arm.

“Alistair, I…”

His expression sobered and he settled beside her, a sense of knowing flooding over him. “Please, not this again.”

She thought she felt the tears rising but put all her effort into keeping them back. “Alistair, we have to talk about this.”

“No, we don’t. We agreed that it wasn’t-”

“I’m going.”

Her words were met with stunned silence. “Ellaria…”

“I made the decision, so you don’t have to.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“No, Alistair, you can’t.” With words flowing now, she found the courage to untangle her arms and shifted to reach out and cup his face in her hands. “You know why you can’t. Ferelden needs you. That hole in the sky isn’t going anywhere and-”

“How can you do this?” His eyes betrayed all the emotion he tried so hard to keep from his voice. She was hurting him in the worst way possible and they both knew it.

Her hands trembled as she pulled them back, afraid the affection would make this worse but he snatched them back, gripping her by the wrists, painlessly but firm nonetheless, imagining a world where this was enough to make her stay. He leaned forward and rested his forehead on hers.

“Please don’t leave.” He whispered.

The words clawed at her, threatening to tear her to pieces. It would be easy to cave. To promise never to leave each other’s side as they had once done, when they had thought the hardships were over. Part of her wished for him to refuse to let go, keeping her within reach, but she had run the scenarios in her head. This didn’t end until they had gone their separate ways.

The tears that rose to his eyes fell unbidden, unlike hers. She felt them wet her cheeks and heard his breathing turned ragged. “Please… I can’t do this without you.”

“We have to do it. For us.” Her voice broke but still no tears came to her own eyes. She wasn’t even holding them back anymore. They just wouldn’t come.

He shook his head and released her hands but before he could pull back any further she leaned in and crushed her lips against his own. He hesitated before he felt himself melting into it, the terror of losing her driving him to claim her lips. His fingers slid into her hair, rough and possessive. He took charge, running his tongue over her bottom lip before she allowed him entry. His grip kept her close but as it tightened he shifted the angle of her head to deepen the kiss further. She moaned into his mouth and grabbed hold of the sides of his cuirass just to pull him closer. 

Her mind drifted to the last time she had felt him control a kiss with such force, remembering how he had grabbed her forearm and pulled her back into his embrace. The kiss had been just as charged and electric, speaking all the words neither of them had the strength to say out loud. Not even Morrigan had dared to make a comment, for once averting her eyes and affording them the illusion of privacy as the city around them went up in flames. They had kissed as if it would be their last, just as they did tonight. The thought of it was almost enough to draw her out of it entirely but she was not ready to let go.

She climbed into his lap, never breaking contact, and wrapped her legs around his waist. His arms slid across her back and held her tightly to his chest. The embrace made Ellaria recall how happy he made her and how he had held her through the best times and the worst, this occasion eagerly fighting for the top spot as the very worst of all.

Her fingers ran along the leather to find the straps of his armour, tugging at them until they complied with her will. His hands began to mirror her actions, stripping the layers of her griffon branded mail to reveal the curves he had spent years memorising.

Once the undershirts were finally shed, Alistair’s hands roamed her body as if discovering it anew. She felt him cover every inch of her skin, reminding her she had promised to always be his in every way. She had spent every moment of their relationship craving his touch and basking under his attentions but once again, she found the affection tonight unsettling. With each graze the embrace grew more accusatory, though she knew Alistair’s mind well enough that he would never intentionally project such aggressive emotion towards her.

They fell back onto the furs losing the boots and the last of the clothing in their way, never more than an inch separating their heated bodies. Ellaria rocked her hips up to meet his as his weight lowered back down onto her. His groan spurred her on but surprisingly his hands came to force her hips back to the ground. Again his assertiveness caught her off guard as his thigh slid between her legs forcing them apart and he reached to pin her arms above her head with one hand.

His lips finally left hers and he moved to trace the outline of her jaw with a slight flick of his tongue before settling into the curve of her neck. He began drawing more lustful sounds out of her swollen lips by applying more pressure to her mound along with deep biting kisses onto her neck. Her cries were incoherent but they were begging for him nonetheless. She didn’t struggle against his hold, enjoying his dominance, but she did dare to bring her legs up around his, slowly climbing until her heels dug into his buttocks, urging him to lower himself further.

When he eventually caved into to her physical demands, he felt her whole body sigh at the thought of the coming relief. Apparently satisfied with her obedience thus far, his arm slid back down her body and claimed her breasts. Then, with little more notice he rolled his hips forward, allowing his erection to press up against her slick entrance and relieved the pressure on her waist to allow her to adjust the angle, giving him full access.

He slid inside her to the hilt, groaning as he enjoyed the feel of her around him again. Ellaria seemed to be lost in the moment, panting beneath him, her body displaying all her enjoyment. She came out of her daze as he began to move inside her, setting a slow but steady pace. Her arms reached up and snaked their way around his neck to pull him closer. That was all he needed.

The pace increased and so did the force behind his thrusts. An unspoken urgency overcame them as they began rocking into each other, teeth sinking into flesh and nails dragging across skin. It continued on like this for what seemed like an eternity before Alistair gripped her backside and without missing a beat brought her into his lap to continue his final assault on her body. The change in position spurred her on and she rode him with wild abandon as his hands lifted and slammed her back down onto his length.

They didn’t last long after this, Ellaria rushing forward to the finish line, dragging Alistair close behind her over the edge. He cried out into her shoulder as he spilled into her, thrusting twice more before completely finishing.

Neither of them made any inclination to move as they struggled to catch their breath and slow their beating hearts. Eventually, he guided them back down to the furs and dragged them across their intertwined bodies. She reached out to him and pulled his arm across her, suddenly feeling fragile. He wrapped her up in his embrace and drew her close but kept his eyes closed, ignoring her pathetic attempts to seek more affection from him by pawing at his cheek.

As their heartbeats finally settled and sleep drew close enough to take them, she felt him press his lips against her forehead.

“One day, you will let me be the one to keep you safe.”


	3. Rhana

People scattered at the sight of them, scampering out of their way and whispering panicked words to their neighbours.

“Just a guess, but I think they know who we are.” Varric quipped.

“What makes you think that? Surely they’re just all just in a hurry to get to the… surprise party we weren’t invited to…?” Rhana ventured, watching a group of well-dressed children be steered indoors and away from them.

“I’m not sure which is worse.”

“Either way, you should be offended.” Solas chimed in.

“I mean, even Hawke didn’t make people run away quite so quickly. You’ve got a gift, Red.”

“Well, I do try.” She grinned at him.

“The Summer Bazaar is just ahead. Stay close.” Cassandra had been on edge since they had arrived at the capital and was in no mood to join in their light-heartedness. She walked at Rhana’s side, one hand on the pommel of her sword and the other ready to push her out of danger’s way.

As they drew closer to the bazaar, the thrum of the gathering crowd grew louder. People hurried forward joining the group that congregated ahead. The company forged on ahead, passing under a particularly gaudy gate and into the market place.

“My lady Herald!”

A hooded scout hurried over to them, looking strangely conspicuous amongst Orlesians in the plain and pale colours of her uniform. The only thing that stood out about her was the silver insignia pinned to her breast, marking all who saw her as an agent of the Inquisition.

“One of Leliana’s agents." Cassandra stepped forward to meet her. The scout went down to one knee before Rhana. “Report.”

“The Chantry Mothers await you in the plaza… But so do a great many Templars.”

“Told you. Surprise party.” Rhana murmured to Varric.

He snorted. “Remind me never not to go to a party you’ve organised.”

Cassandra threw them a severe look before turning back to the scout. “There are Templars here? Why?”

The scout dropped her gaze to the ground. “The people believe the Templars will protect them from…”

“The Inquisition?” Solas cut in, a single brow arching high as he finished the scout’s sentence.

The scout rose to her feet. “Yes. They await you on the other side of the market.”

Rhana stifled a groan. “Alright then, let’s get this over with.” The whispers of a headache started to tug at the edges of her mind and she wasn’t sure if it was the prospect of a public appearance or just the beating sun which was bringing it on.

“Thank you, Scout. Hang back and keep watch. At the first sign of trouble I want you to return to Haven, am I clear? Someone will need to inform them if we are… Delayed.” 

“Understood.” The scout placed her right fist over her heart and bowed curtly.

Cassandra turned on her heel and strode to catch up with Rhana who was already working her way forward into the crowd. “Do you have a plan?”

“No. Do you?” Rhana shouldered past a group of nobles who had their eyes fixed forward.

“No, but I admire what you’re doing, Herald. Not many would have the courage to face the problem so… head on.”

“Like I said before, we don’t have much of a choice.”

Cassandra’s response was cut short as one of the Chantry Mothers stepped up onto a podium and a hush fell over the crowd.

“Good people of Val Royeaux, hear me!”

Rhana and her group continued working their way forward. A few people huffed and tutted as they were moved aside but they soon quietened down when they saw “her” walk past. 

“Together we mourn our Divine. Her naïve and beautiful heart silenced by treachery.”

Rhana broke through to the front of the mass to stand at the foot of the podium. Her companions spread out around her, Solas and Varric keeping their eyes on the crowd, daring anyone to come close. The Chantry Mother spied her, eyes narrowing in pure contempt at the mere sight of her.

The Mother’s eyes swept back over the gathered people, arms spreading wide. “You wonder what will become of her murderer do you not? Well, wonder no more!”

If anyone was not yet aware of Rhana’s presence, they were now. 

“Behold, the so-called Herald of Andraste! Claiming to rise where our beloved fell!”

Varric’s hand itched to reach for ‘Bianca’ and as the people around them erupted in shouts and jeers.

She continued, voice climbing, feeding the mob’s emotion. “We say this is a false prophet! The maker would send no mage in our hour of need.”

Rhana flinched as the Chantry Mother spat the word “mage” at her with all the venom she could muster. Her headache reached forward claiming the right side of her head in a mind numbing vice. She gritted her teeth against the insult and the pain, and stepped forward.

“Enough! You preach of peace and yet twist the truth to incite further persecution. We came here to talk, so please, allow us the chance to speak.” Rhana had been entirely too focused on the Chantry Mother to notice how her words had commanded the crowd’s silence.

Cassandra raised her voice to join hers. “It’s true. The Inquisition seeks only to end this madness before it’s too late.”

For a moment, it looked as if the Chantry Mother had no retort but the sound of heavy boots on stone had her squaring up her shoulders to speak once more. “It is too late for talk!”

A group of Templars approached the stage, marching forward in formation. Their arrival was met with cheers and a muted applause but Rhana saw the hard set of their faces as they closed in. She reached out for those familiar flames, keeping them weak but drawing comfort from their warmth in her hand.

“The Templars have returned to the Chantry. They will face this “Inquisition” and the people will be safe once more!”

The Templars marched up onto the stage, armour gleaming in the midday sun, and fanned out around the Chantry Mothers. The punch was thrown before anyone realised what was going on. The Chantry Mother collapsed to the ground, unconscious. The flames Rhana was holding flared but Solas’ hand on her forearm compelled her to crush them in her fist.

“Am I supposed to be impressed?” She snatched her arm back from Solas’ calming hold and stepped up to the podium. She swung a leg up and levered herself to stand face to face to the one who led them.

His pointed face pulled back into a sneer as she challenged him. “As if I would do anything for your benefit. Her claim to authority was an insult.” His small eyes gleamed in mild amusement as he spoke. “Much like your own.” He turned and led his Templars off the stage but as he did so Rhana caught the scent of something sour in the air. It was a sulphuric smell that seemed so familiar and yet alien. She looked around her to see if anyone else had noticed it but the crowds were busy dispersing. 

Cassandra hurried after the Templars. “Lord Seeker Lucius!”

Rhana stifled a groan as her head throbbed. She set off after them, Solas and Varric falling in behind her.

“Lord Seeker! It is imperative that we speak-”

The pointed faced man rounded on her in a flash, bringing the pack to a halt. “You will not address me.” Cassandra’s determination wavered, confused. “Creating a heretical movement. Raising up a puppet as Andraste’s Prophet. You should be ashamed. You should ALL be ashamed! The Templars failed no one when they left the Chantry to purge the mages! You are the ones who have failed. You who’d leash our righteous swords with doubt and fear.” His speech slowed to emphasise his words, using them like daggers to strike at them. “If you came to appeal to the Chantry, you are too late. The only destiny that demands respect is mine.”

“If you didn’t come to parley, then why did you come? To make a show of hitting a witless woman? How honourable of you!” Rhana was reaching the end of her tether and found that all the notes Josephine had given her on how to address these people went right out of her head.

“I came to see what frightens these old women so. And to laugh.” The eyes that sat too small amongst sharp features caught sight of the remainders of the crowd. The people that lingered to gawk at the hallowed Templars squaring off with the malevolent Inquisition. “Templars! Val Royeaux is unworthy of our protection. We march!”

“Charming fellow, isn’t he?” Varric commented when they were out of earshot.

“Has Lord Seeker Lucius gone mad? He was always a good man. Never given to ambition and grand standing. This is very bizarre.” Cassandra’s voice came softly from Rhana’s side. Her confidence shaken by the scolding she received.

“I don’t like this. Something feels wrong.” Rhana frowned at their backs as they disappeared across the plaza bridge.

“I agree. But I’d encourage you not to write the Templars off too quickly. There must be some in the order who see what the Lord Seeker has become.”

This time her groan could not be stifled. She brought her fingers to her temples and rubbed deep circles into her head. She barely registered the arrow whistling past her head before it struck its mark at her feet.


	4. Mila

Just one more.

He brushes the hair out of her eyes with delicate fingers. He whispers something.

The tankard slams back down. Another.

His arms are around her. He holds her close.

Slam. Another.

He places a kiss on her cheek. His voice is soft in her ear. Hawke.

“Hawke.”

Her eyes dart up. The barkeeper is looking at her.

“What did you say?” She tries to keep her voice steady.

“Do you want another?” He repeats.

She breathes out. The laughter comes unexpectedly. It takes over her whole body until she can barely breathe.

“I think you might have had enough.”

“Ha! Yes. Yes, maybe. Ha… Ha…” The laughter fades as she composes herself, leaning heavily against the bar.

There’s a tap on her shoulder.

“Hey. You.”

She keeps her eyes on the bar and her voice light. “Hello, friend. Did you need something?” The words slur without her permission.

“Yeah, I might. What did you say your name was?”

His accent is thick and all too familiar. Free Marcher.

“What’s it to you?”

“Curious.”

She turns. The man is still standing there. Curious. She knows what he wants. He stands at least two inches lower than her but she stays slumped against the bar to keep that to herself. His crossed arms are buff but she can see they lack definition. For all his bulk, this man is soft. What worries her are the two bigger men flanking him.

She turns back to the bar. “Caitlyn.”

“Your surname.”

Her face twists in a grimace as he persists. “Prion.”

“I don’t buy it.”

“I wasn’t selling.”

“I know who you are.”

“Do you now?”

It always goes the same way with these people. Especially the part when they fight.

“I was in Kirkwall just before things went to shit with the Qunari.”

She reaches for the empty tankard. It’ll do. “Good for you! Do you tell everyone that story?”

His hand is on her shoulder now. She bites back a growl.

“I know people who would pay good money to know where you are. Even better money if we take you to them.”

The hand tightens. She turns, shrugging out of his grip but keeping her movements slow.

“Problem is, I’m pretty comfy right here. I have a whole plan to go see the sights tomorrow- did you know you can actually visit the Landsmeet Chamber?”

“Oh we’re not asking. You’re coming with us.” They each take a step forward. 

Her pulse picks up. Fingers tighten around the tankard.

“That’s a shame. I react so much better to manners.”

A hand goes to grab her. She swings the tankard towards her aggressor. It connects with a sickening crunch. She ducks under the next swing. Her fist drives into the gut of one of the big guys. Somewhere a knee comes up to connect with her face. She pulls back and steps out of reach as the two left standing come at her again. She sways involuntarily and misses her opportunity to dodge the next punch.

Her hand flies to her jaw. Her face feels warm and sticky. She catches movement out of the corner of her eye. She reaches out to block the coming hit but her instincts take over and sparks send the man flying backwards. So much for staying inconspicuous.

She turns her attention to her last opponent. The soft one.

If only he had kept his mouth shut.

She hears the bartender hollering from across the room. The man is distracted for a split second when she decides to charge. She rams her shoulder hard into his chest lifting him up off the ground to slam him back down. She reaches for the dented tankard on the floor but metal gauntlets seize her, dragging her backwards.

The room spins and she suddenly becomes aware of the sharp metallic taste in her mouth. As the guards drag her out of the bar she catches glimpses of the mess they made. Splintered wood and splattered blood decorate the floor. She idly wonders how much of it is hers. 

A single thought floats through the haze to the front of her brain. “What would Aveline say?”

She smiles as she allows the darkness to swallow her whole.


	5. Rhana

Her heart was in her throat. Her fists were tight, palms slick with sweat. She squeezed them tighter as she thundered across the cobbled courtyard. She concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other without breaking out into a run. 

Jadon’s face swam before her eyes. She wanted to go back and punch the smug look right off his face. She stopped dead in her tracks unable to control her fury any longer. She screamed at the top of her lungs until there was nothing left. The tears fell freely now.

She stood there, bathed in moonlight, the quiet racking sobs shaking her body.

That little shit.

Her feet began moving again, the new steps slower than the ones that had brought her here.

I don’t want this. I never wanted this.

She paid no attention to where her body carried her.

I want this to be over. All of it.

Suddenly she knew where she was going. She knew before her feet stopped at the foot of the looming tower.

Kane, why did you have to leave?

The flames danced around her fingertips reaching around her palms to wind around her wrists. Her arms stretched out as the fire grew in intensity. She felt the moon at her back, bearing down on her in silent accusation. She closed her eyes and felt the power course through her veins.

This is the only way.

She reached out with her mind, feeling for a heartbeat, a single presence behind stonewalls that would crush her resolve, but she found none. No sign of life to stand between her and her twisted idea of freedom.

She could see the look in her father’s eyes, even now as the flames grew. The look of betrayal as they came to take her away… Which they would. She would spare him further hurt by averting her eyes and hiding her triumph. She would feign reluctance as they would march her out of the hall and towards her new life.

You should have let me go.

The flames swirled in a mad dance around her now, an incredible show for the stars above her. The force of the blaze began to tug at her limbs, threatening to pull her down.

A little bit… more…

“HEY! YOU! STOP!!”

Too late.

She unleashed her fury against the stone and held her breath as the tower shook and trembled under the sheer force of the blast. For one quiet moment she thought it hadn’t been enough. The explosive chaos that threw her across the courtyard proved her wrong.

***

“Herald!”

Rhana’s feet continued carrying her away from the Chantry as she trawled through the thoughts spinning about in her head.

“Herald!”

She focused in on the problem which was gnawing at her the most and began untangling her emotions from the cold hard facts in order to start laying out a plan. It was a routine she was well versed in.

“Rhana!”

“Huh?” She stopped dead in her tracks, eyes blinking away the haze of deep thought to find who was calling her.

The Commander was striding up to her, furs bristling in the light wind. Her stomach did a turn and she cursed herself for it. She tucked the strands of errant red hair behind her ears. 

“Commander. Did you need something?”

He came to stand before her, brow furrowed. “Yes, I suppose so. I wanted to say I agree with what you said back there. I fear we’ve recently become prone to spending too much time debating instead of taking action.”

She hugged her arms across her chest. The chill was starting to seep through her fur-lined cloak. “Oh, well thank you. I was worried I may have overstepped the mark.”

The ache in her bones had made her irritable before she had even set foot in Haven, so when Josephine and Cullen had once again gotten into it over whom the Inquisition should approach, the Mages or Templars, Rhana had snapped. The sharp words that came firing out of her mouth were out before she could catch them. Silence had followed her words and the awareness of the company she was in came rushing back to her. However, instead of reprimanding her and asking her to leave- as she fully expected them to- they bowed their heads and agreed to leave the choice in her hands. Her outburst had even earned her a small smile from Cassandra.

“Not at all. With the Inquisition still leaderless, it is hard for us to agree on a direction.” His eyes glanced away uneasily and the hard set of his strong features gave way as he searched for a way to broach the next topic. “I have to ask though… Are you sure that the Mages will be open to hearing us out?”

“No.” The answer was blunter than either of them expected. Cullen frowned at her, so she felt compelled to elaborate. “I mean I’m not sure. I didn’t leave the Circle with these Mages so I have next to no clue what they plan to do. That being said, I doubt the Grand Enchanter would have approached us if there weren’t open to it.”

His frown melted away. “I suppose you’re right. I wish you the best of luck when meeting them.”

His eyes met hers and conveyed a sincerity she had not expected to find in him. Her stomach did another turn.

“Thank you Commander.” She impressed herself by not stumbling over her words.

He graced her with a smile she couldn’t help but return. “I should let you get some rest. You must be exhausted.” He offered a short bow and made to turn back to the Chantry.

“Actually… Commander?”

He stopped in his tracks and turned back to her. “Yes?”

“When you have a moment I was hoping to ask you a few questions, if you don’t mind? About the Templars? I feel quite under prepared to meet them when the time comes.”

He looked around, a little surprised. “I’ll have some time after I’ve finished with the new recruits down in the camp, this evening if you’d like?”

“Yes. Of course. That would be perfect, thank you.” Rhana tried to control her smile. It’s purely professional. Nothing more.

“Very well.” He marched off back towards the Chantry, nodding to Cassandra as they crossed paths.

“Herald, are you ready?” Cassandra’s tone was all business.

“Ready? For what?” Rhana braced herself, knowing she wasn’t going to like the answer. Frankly any answer, which didn’t comprise of the words ‘sleep’ and ‘get some’ was going to be disappointing.

“Combat training, of course.” She raised her hand and brandished two long slim poles at her.

Rhana suddenly felt like a child again, being reminded to sit down and finish her studies before she could go out and play. “Ugh. I’m still sore from yesterday’s session and then there was the ride-”

“You asked me to do this for you, Herald, so let’s go.”

She reluctantly fell into step next to the warrior, wishing for some miracle to come and interrupt them. “Funny how I can ask you to beat me around with a stick and you really commit to it but I ask you to stop calling me ‘Herald’ and you can’t handle that.”

Cassandra smirked as she led them towards Haven’s gates. “It has become a habit, forgive me… Rhana.”

Rhana laughed. “Finally! So now that we’re on a first name basis, any chance we can postpone this beating?”

“No.”

“Right. Of course not.” She took a deep breath, digging deep into her reserves of energy to find some motivation for this. The memories that had driven her to ask for Cassandra’s help weren’t too far out of reach and by the time they had crossed the army camp that sat at the foot of Haven’s walls, she had resigned herself to her fate.

They returned to the clearing where they had first started training, a little way out from the town and away from prying eyes. Cassandra tossed a pole to Rhana who snatched it out of mid air. This was the easy part. She swung it around a few times until it felt comfortable in her grip again. Not too different from a staff, after all.

Cassandra watched her carefully. “Let’s begin.”

Within minutes, Rhana was breaking a sweat whilst the snow continued to fall lazily from the sky. She lost her temper with her now sodden cloak and stripped it off and tossed it aside.

“Again” Cassandra barked.

Rhana lowered her centre of gravity, ready for the next attack. She danced out of Cassandra’s range when she came for her, hopping over the next swing but once more the warrior landed a punishing blow to her back as she prepared to strike.

“You’re still too predictable. Your form is good but you also need to work on your endurance. I can see you getting slower already.”

Rhana reached her hand out to rest against a tree whilst she fought to catch her breath. “You sound like my brother.”

“Is he the one that trained you?”

“Everything I know of physical combat is down to him.” The thought of Kane made her smile and gave her a small boost of energy. “But he always said I-” Clack! “-never took advant-” Clack! “-age of-” Clack! “-my-” Clack! “-speed!” Smack!

Cassandra barely flinched but at least the blow had connected. “Better. Again!”


	6. Mila

Caitlyn Prion

The name was beginning to feel normal to her. It felt safe.

She signed off her name in the log with a flourish, something she never did with her own.

They escorted her out of the jail and left her to make her own way back into town. It had been almost three months since she had last been thrown into a cell to sober up overnight but she had been warmed to find that even after such time and in an another town, the jailor’s quips were still the same. Apparently they didn’t get hired for their creativity.

Mila made her way through Denerim’s market which was already starting to buzz to life with tradesman setting up their stalls and servants heading to pick up today’s fresh produce. She pulled her hood up and bowed her head to keep the morning sun’s glare out of her eyes.

Maker, this hangover was going to be a bitch.

A wave of nausea pulled her down a non-descript alley where she heaved up the stale bread they had made her eat before releasing her. With the rest of the piss-poor ale she had managed to somehow stomach the night before, out of her system, she immediately began to feel better. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and reached for her coin purse. She was surprised to find a fair few coins left in there. Apparently things had escalated before she had had the time drink all of it away.

She bought herself some freshly baked bread, cheese and an apple before continuing on her walk through town. She used her knife to cut wedges out of the apple as she strolled along, eating them straight off the blade.

People milled past her at different speeds but none took the time to give her a second look, for which she was grateful. She knew her face was a mess after last night’s antics and she certainly couldn’t be bothered to deal with another asshole who just “wanted to know her name”. She pulled the hood a little lower remembering just how swollen her face was. Luckily, it probably made her look even less like the notorious Champion of Kirkwall.

Eventually, Mila reached the board house she was looking for and headed inside. Little Annie, who was in fact not so little, welcomed her back and dutifully asked no questions about the black eye or other new additions to her look.

Mila let herself into the room she had rented for the past couple of nights and settled herself on the cot inside. At least the prison cell had had sleeping arrangements just as comfortable, which was of course, not saying much. After eating her fill of bread and cheese she got up and dropped to the ground to reach beneath the cot.

She pulled her hefty pack out and onto the sideboard and rifled through her belongings to check everything was there. It was. Her mind at ease, she poured the water from the tin jug into the bowl beside her pack. She stripped the few pieces of light armour she wore and the underclothes beneath and began scrubbing down. When she felt the stench of booze and tobacco had successfully been purged from her skin she turned her attention to her face. She wiped it gingerly at first, checking again to see if her nose had set right.

In her cell she had preferred not to showboat with any healing spells in case anyone noticed, so she had had to make do with a “manual” fix. Now she took the time to send a few healing waves into her face concentrating on her nose, split lip and black eye. Once she was done she reached into her pack for something to check her reflection in.

She couldn’t help but grimace when her breastplate came out first. Kirwall’s emblem shone bright in the light that filtered through the window’s wooden slats, as if celebrating freedom from the depths of her bag. She had stashed all the recognisable pieces of her Champion’s armour out of sight ever since the day she left the Free Marcher city, but for some reason she still hauled the junk across the world with her.

Sentimental bullshit.

She turned it over and quickly used the smooth side to check her handiwork. She ran a hand through her inky black hair, thanking the Maker for her decision to keep it short. As soon as she was done, the breastplate disappeared back from whence it came. With all that done she started getting dressed again, putting everything back on apart from her boots. She packed everything back up and tossed the pack down by the side of the cot, collapsing onto the pathetic excuse for a bed soon after.

She threw an arm over her eyes and took a deep breath.

It had been three days since she had run out of ideas and she could feel the energy seeping out of her a little more each day. If she didn’t pick a direction soon she was sure she’d end up giving up. But then again, she wasn’t quite sure what she would be giving up on.

The tears had begun to trace paths down the sides of her face before she had even noticed she was crying again. Those were the moments when she usually started hunting for her next watering hole but the thought of more alcohol right now just threw her stomach upside down.

The knock at the door caught her by surprise and she bolted upright, wiping the unruly tears from her face.

“Who is it?”

“Serah Prion? There’s a letter for you here.”

There was only one person who would have known to send a letter here. She tried not to rush at the door and put on her best impression of nonchalance when she took the letter from Big Annie, a little waif of a girl who usually came to change the water jugs.

As soon as the door closed, Mila perched on the edge of the bed and tore the seal open, not caring to check what hilarious symbol her friend would have chosen to adorn the wax with this time.

She forced herself to breathe and steady her nerves as her eyes moved across the page.

The news was certainly nothing to smile about. The Inquisition had their hands full with all these rifts and were not getting any of the support they needed to really get anything done. But something in the tone of the words brought a smile to her lips. He always had had a way with words.

She re-read the letter a few times to check she hadn’t missed anything. Sometimes Varric couldn’t be sure if Leliana would actually get her hands on his letters so most of this information was hidden in subtext amongst irrelevant details and innuendos. One thing, though, was becoming abundantly clear over the course of his correspondence: the Inquisition had won the jackpot when they picked up this Trevelyan.

Mila had to admit that she still knew relatively little about the woman, between Varric’s conservative letters and the gossip surrounding her being so extravagant, but Trevelyan had received her friend’s seal of approval and that would always be enough for Hawke.

After a while, she put the letter aside, making a mental note to burn it after one more read a little later, and hung her head in relief.

She finally had a new direction.

If the Inquisition was going to chase down the rebel mages, someone needed to keep an eye on the Templars, that much was sure. If Val Royeaux was anything to go by, they had some nasty looking skeletons hidden in their closets and Hawke wanted to know what they were. And whilst Varric had urged her not to get any ideas about them, she knew instantly that’s where she was going. This was the lead she had been waiting for. The excuse she had been hunting down.

She was going to Therinfal Redoubt.


	7. Ellaria

Cailan’s naked body hung lifeless before her.

Bones stuck out at gruesome angles and limbs twisted round in unnatural ways. His bare skin was caked in layers of dried blood and the claw marks on his skin alluded to violence inflicted beyond his death.

Ellaria’s stomach turned. She heard Alistair heave behind her.

Her vision started to blur but the King’s form upon the crude crucifix remained as clear as day.

She barely registered Wynne’s solemn words or Leliana’s whispered prayers.

A hand on her arm begged for attention.

“Come on, we should clear the rest of them out so we can come back and… Take him down.”

As Alistair’s words fell she felt the now familiar tug at the back of her mind. She could almost smell them. Smell the foul stench that permeated the air around them.

Her head whipped to her right, eyes finding the darkspawn that loomed ahead. This one was alone. It was a trap. She knew before she’d even taken a step towards him that he sought to draw them towards the rest of the horde. But she didn’t halt her step.

As she neared, the genlock summoned skeletons to slow her approach but she barrelled through them, decapitating one and sending another toppling off the bridge.

Her companions called after her, begging her to slow down as she broke into a run following the escaping genlock. She heard them clash swords with the remaining skeletons behind her, but still she would not slow.

She followed the genlock into the pack of awaiting darkspawn, swinging her swords with vicious precision. She slashed into them over and over. Their black-red blood washed over her as she tore into them with an uncontrollable rage. She realised at some point that she must have been screaming because of the raw ache in her throat.

Something began to tug at the edges of her consciousness. A name. Her name.

She fell onto the next Hurlock, sword and dagger buried deep into his chest. Her right hand left her sword, joining the left hand to wrap around the hilt of her dagger as she dragged it out of the spoiled flesh. She plunged it again and again into the creature beneath her, bones splitting as the white steel bit through it.

Suddenly, two strong arms wrapped her chest pulling her back. The voice in her ear cut through the fog of her rage before she could turn to fight him off.

“Ellie! It’s ok! It’s ok! I’ve got you.”

Her muscles relaxed as she felt Alistair hold her close, arms still tight around her. She could feel his laboured breathing as he kept her overpowered and became aware of how shallow her own breaths were. She focused on his voice and on his breathing as it slowed, trying to follow suit. Her grip loosened and the dagger fell from her blood slickened fingers.

An odd cooling sensation ran through her body. Alien but calming.

“She’s alright. None of the blood is her own.”

Wynne. As she spoke, Ellaria felt the healing magic fade from her limbs.

Alistair breathed out heavily and rested his head against her shoulder.

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

You’ve been keeping me safe for a lot longer than you can imagine.

***

The second week was the worst.

The pain was unbearable and each wave worse than the last. She wrapped her arms tight around her own waist as if that would keep her from falling to pieces. The voice in her head screamed for her to go back. To find him and to let him hold her until the end of the world.

But she was doing the right thing. She knew for sure when Alistair stopped fighting her on it. He knew it too.

The Wardens in Orlais had gone dark and whilst Ellaria had her suspicions, nothing was certain. The trail ran cold on Orlesian soil so there was only one place left they could search for answers. Weisshaupt. 

In all honesty, she wondered if the answers she sought were there but they had little choice. Ferelden’s Wardens were still inconceivably low in numbers since the last Blight, and without their neighbouring allies at hand to help, Ellaria worried for the safety of her country.

But something else was drawing her towards the Warden hold. A single selfish cause, which was enough to draw her away from her husband’s side.

Avernus had sent word inviting her to return to Soldier’s Peak to discuss his latest work but by the time she arrived it was too late. The hold had been overrun by bandits and returned to its former ghostly state from when demons had roamed the halls freely. Avernus was nowhere to be found but thankfully, neither was his body. After trawling through the mess of papers, she found his notes outlining his intention to bring his research directly to the First Warden.

What she had read next had almost stopped her heart completely.

His obsession with the untapped power in Warden blood had led him on to finding ways of circumventing the Calling and perhaps even returning the body into a state of reproductive capacities.

If it hadn’t been for Alistair, the idea would not have fazed her, but for him… How could she not want to offer him that?

Alistair deserved that life. He deserved to be happy.

She had once had the opportunity to give him that. She had had the opportunity to offer him a life of peace and tranquillity where he could live out a happy marriage in regal luxury but she had been far too selfish to ever allow that. He claimed it had never been what he wanted but Alistair was a good man. He deserved peace. A marriage to Anora could have given him that and given Ferelden a good King. But Ellaria had denied it that. She manoeuvred Anora onto the throne and kept her love close by her side, ever trying to convince herself that this was the right thing to do.

Her fate had been sealed the moment she took her sword to Loghain’s neck. For all her good intentions and her blind optimism she had not seen how her thirst for revenge had consumed her. She stood before the man who had taken away her mother and father, her king and her order and she could not find the mercy she had so desperately fought to keep since it all began.

So perhaps this was her chance for redemption. The chance to return things to how they once were.

It had been just over a month since she had left Alistair’s side now and she was surprised at how much ground she had managed to cover in such a short space of time. The Free Marcher roads had been unexpectedly quiet as she worked her way west towards the Imperial Highway. The taverns had been accommodating and filled with muted atmospheres. It all made her feel uneasy. It felt like the calm before the storm.

Today’s ride was plagued by heavy rain, but she huddled beneath her cloak and kept her horse going. Every moment she took to rest was a moment lost. The road ran along bland plains and the grey drizzly light soon became so dull as to almost send her to sleep.

A nearby scream tore her from her reverie and she sat bolt upright in the saddle, searching for the source of trouble. She urged her horse forward and soon spotted a group of men crowding a caravan on the road ahead.

Bandits.

She pulled her horse to a stop. It would be easy to step off the road and detour around them. She hesitated.

“AHHHH! NO! GET OFF ME! PLEASE!! STOP!”

Ellaria’s heart lurched. The wave of guilt was enough to make her feel sick. Before another beat passed, she was galloping into the fray. She released the reigns and reached for her swords, heels digging hard into the horse’s flanks to keep control. The rainfall masked her approach and her blades had bitten through the necks of two men before they knew she was upon them.

She swung down from the saddle and took a breath. Nine men standing. Three axes, four swords and two crossbows. Leather armour. Few pieces of steel. The ground was muddy and slick. She’d have to watch her footing to get a proper advantage.

A man hung limp out of the open carriage, presumably dead. Another lay a little further away, face down in the mud.

“Who the FUCK are you?!”

The man who spoke wielded one of the axes. He had a woman pinned to the side of the carriage. Her dress was in tatters.

“Please… Please help me…” The woman’s voice trembled. Ellaria refused to look at her.

The rain continued to pummel down on them but Ellaria pulled her hood back nonetheless. It restricted her peripheral vision.

“Let her go.” Her tone brooked no argument but she could see they weren’t going to let this slide without a fight. The men shifted around her, surrounding her. Steel hissed as it was pulled out of leather scabbards. She tightened her fingers around the hilt of her swords, feeling the soft leather of her gloves stretching with the movement.

“I said let her go.”

The first man dragged the woman away from the carriage and brought her back to his chest. The cruel edge of his war axe came to press at the soft skin of her throat. She whimpered helplessly.

He grinned at her, a mouthful of rotten teeth. “Or what?”

Ellaria lost her patience. She spun on her heels and swept her swords forwards, striking at the mid-drifts of three men. She danced out of reach as they all fell to attack. Some slipped in the hurry, forgetting the steady rainfall. She started forward again, landing blow after blow to the swordsmen. She felt a blade make contact with the silver-plating of her armour but it was just a glancing blow. She turned and led a punishing attack on the man who had been quick enough to reach her.

The adrenaline kept her stepping and turning out of reach. Before long, the first man with the axe came at her and she had to focus all her energy on blocking his blows. He was strong and unexpectedly light on his feet for an axe-wielder. She parried and ducked under two consecutive swings and saw an opening to strike at his back though she’d forgotten to check hers.

Her enhanced awareness screamed at her to move but she was already tangled in her attack. Surprisingly, the bite of a blade never came. The sound of crackling thunder did. Purple and blue light lit up the fight and Ellaria noticed that the men she’d left standing, were no longer that. The last of them were in the mud, bodies burnt to a crisp.

Yet somehow, her attention was drawn away from their bodies and to that of the woman who lay dead on the ground, throat slit. Ellaria took a step towards her, heart beating faster than during the fight. She stopped when she sensed someone behind her.

Her blood-drenched blade came to meet the throat of the approaching stranger in the blink of an eye. Her heart caught in her throat.

“Anders?”


	8. Rhana

They just kept coming.

There had been a slight reprieve in the last hour from the continuous onslaught during which many of their band had been able to catch their breath and heal their wounds.

“Remind me why the fuck we’re still here?!” Badger’s gruff voice called out across the clearing.

“We still ain’t got the fuckin’ signal, you dunce!” Harold swung his axe at a demon, the blade slicing right through the wood-like flesh it embodied. The shriek that followed was enough to make most of the men wince.

An arrow came and struck at the creature’s wide-open maw to cut the sound short. “Makers balls, I hate that sound!” Yvainne was perched in a tree picking them off and keeping tabs on the numbers pouring through the green portal.

“And what the fuck do I care if some poncy-ass lah-dee-dah lord gets his fuckin’ shit outta here?” Badger breathed heavily after having felled another creature.

Kane came barrelling into the fray using his bulk to floor two monsters, finishing them each with one grand swing of his longsword. “’Cos you want to get paid, dumbass! Now shut the fuck up and stop fighting like a granddad. My bloody sister could put you on your back with the amount of effort you’re putting into this.”

“I could put your sister on her back if you really want.” He grinned showing off a set of rotten teeth.

One day I swear I’m going to punch them right out of your face.

“Sure! You’ve always wanted to be a eunuch, right?”

Yvainne giggled from above. “Behind you, Kane.”

He turned a swung hard and blind, trusting in his instincts to land the blow. The creature dissipated in a flash of sickly green light before it had even taken a step. He winked up at the elf.

Kane turned away and smirked. He was good. And he knew it. He looked around at the rest of their band. Half of them were decent fighters but none of them could ever hope to beat him if they ever hit their heads hard enough to think that was a good idea. He watched the band’s leader dance, swords in hand, around a single fiend, wasting senseless amounts of energy. 

He toyed again with the idea of challenging him for control of the group but came to the same conclusion as usual. Kane did not give a shit what happened to these mercenaries. He would be moving on to another band soon enough. Maybe just a few more pay-outs.

His thoughts turned back to his sister as the number of demons coming through slowed to a boring crawl, which the lithe little elf could handle herself from her elevated spot. He wondered where Rhana was now and the knot in his stomach, which had grown there ever since he had heard of the fall of the Circle, twisted uncomfortably. He didn’t even know where to find her if he wanted to. He had wanted to write her as he did around twice a year but didn’t know where he would send it too. That made him uncomfortable.

A scream tore him back into the clearing. He turned just in time to see Badger get impaled on a ghastly demon’s claw-like arm. Kane moved in slowly to finish the job his colleague had been unable to.

“I did warn you.” He informed the Badger’s corpse.

***

“No! LELIANA!”

Dorian grabbed her by the waist and dragged her back.

“We have to GO!”

Rhana screamed as the demons fell on the Spymaster. Her cry caught in her throat as the maelstrom of magic swallowed them whole. Dorian held on tight to her as they were wrenched back through time and hurled out the other side. They tumbled out in a tangle of limbs on the cold flagstones of the Redcliffe throne room. 

“Welcome back, Red.” Varric smiled down at her as he raised Bianca towards the dais.

Dorian lifted himself off her and pulled her to her feet. They turned to face Alexius. 

“You’ll have to do better than that.” Dorian quipped as he brushed down his robes.

Rhana reached for her staff as she closed in on Alexius who stood, defeated. She swung the staff around hard, bringing it to bite the back of his knees to send him to the ground.

“You’ve failed, Alexius.” She spat the words down at him, the sight of her friends dying still vivid in her mind.

He rocked back onto his knees as she stepped back to give him space. “I see that. There is no point in extending this charade. Felix?”

His son stepped forward and helped him to his feet keeping his hand firmly on his father’s shoulder. Rhana looked away, ashamed of her outburst. The man was broken. There was no need to fight him further.

“It’s going to be alright.” Felix’s voice was low and discreet.

“… You’ll die.” The Magister’s voice broke.

His son took him in his arms as the Inquisition agents approached. Rhana stopped them short with her hand until Felix broke the embrace. The soldiers waited then led Alexius away without a word. Dorian stepped forward and took Felix aside, speaking to him in hushed tones.

“What happened there?” Cassandra’s voice broke Rhana’s reverie.

“Oh… um. Later, please?”

Cassandra nodded and Rhana turned away, pacing the raised podium as she organised her thoughts. Dorian’s hand caught her elbow in one of her turns. His smile warmed her and she felt herself relax.

“Glad that’s over with.”

Rhana started to answer but the grand oak doors groaned loudly as they were heaved wide open to allow a procession of guards into the room. She studied them as they filed in, armed to the teeth and, most importantly, bearing the Royal coat of arms. 

“… Or not.”

Rhana started rolling out a number of scenarios in her head when she heard the woman’s voice ring out across the hall.

“Grand Enchanter Fiona!”

Rhana’s eyes widened as she recognised the figure gliding towards them. Varric and Cassandra stepped back to frame the Herald.

Fiona hurried forward. “Queen Anora.” She went straight down to her knees before her.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, Grand Enchanter, but when sanctuary was granted it was agreed it was not to impact the lives of the people of Redcliffe, was it not?” The words were clipped and the tone severe.

“Your Majesty, we never intended-”

“Your intentions ceased to matter when my people were threatened.”

Fiona stood, keeping her head bowed. The Queen took a deep breath and composed herself.

“I am rescinding my offer of sanctuary.” Fiona’s mouth moved to speak but the Queen continued, raising her tone to make herself heard to the entire hall. “You and your followers are to leave Ferelden at once.”

Fiona shook her head, eyes meeting Anora’s. “But we have hundreds who need protection. Where are we to go?” Her hands spread in front of her, a plain action which spoke of desperation.

Rhana stepped forward and cleared her throat. “I don’t mean to interrupt but I’ll remind you we did come here seeking your support…” Her eyes darted to The Queen who watched her carefully. She looked away, choosing to focus on Fiona.

She frowned, hesitating for a second. “And… what are the terms of this arrangement?”

“Certainly better than anything Alexius proposed you.” Dorian declared, hopping off the dais to join Rhana’s side. “The Inquisition is better than that, no?”

“Of course, although I would need to discuss…” She glanced back to her companions. Cassandra nodded and gestured for her to continue. Once again, it seemed the decision was to be hers. She was not used to this.

Fiona, who cast a fearful glance to the Queen, drew her attention back. “We have little option but to accept whatever you offer.”

Rhana could not ignore the apprehension in her voice. “We would not have you join us as anything other than equals. The Inquisition only wants to help.”

Fiona allowed herself a small smile. “I am grateful for that. I only pray that the rest of the Inquisition honours your promise.”

She shrugged. “I fear that is up to you and your followers to show yourself worthy of this trust. My word can only go so far.”

“Wisely spoken.” Fiona declared.

Rhana turned to Anora, speaking to her directly for the first time. “The Breach threatens all of Thedas. We cannot afford to be divided now. Any chance we have relies on the mages allying themselves with us.”

Her nose turned up another inch. “If the Inquisition is taking responsibility for the mages then so be it. Get them out of my kingdom.”

Fiona bowed once more. “I will gather our people and prepare for our journey to Haven. The Breach will be closed. You will not regret this.”


	9. Mila

“Do you love him?”

Mila sputtered her beer across the table. Anders pulled back and gingerly wiped the splatter from his shirt.

“How ladylike.”

“If I’m a lady you’ve no place asking me questions like that. In Isabela’s words: a lady does not kiss and tell.” Mila quirked her eyebrows for emphasis.

“Yeah, but then she goes around bragging about it. So… Tell me. Are you really in love with him?” The tone of the entire conversation dipped as Anders began to steer their light-hearted talk and usual ribbing into serious territory, but Mila was digging her heels in deep.

“Oh come oooonnnn, Anders. I don’t know! Does it matter? It’s working.”

He looked her in the eyes. “For now.”

Mila felt the familiar tug at her heartstrings as his gaze refused to falter. For a moment she lost her train of thought and filled in the gap by taking another hearty gulp of her drink. “Don’t be like that, please?”

“I’m serious, Mila. He left once. What makes you so sure he’ll stay this time?”

She took a deep breath and put her tankard aside. She leaned forward across the table and met his gaze with intensity of her own, a slight smile playing on her lips. “I’ll tell you if you tell me- honestly- why you want to know.”

Anders was the first to bow down, dropping his gaze to the table. “I just want to know you’re… happy.”

She smiled to herself and reached for his hand. “I am. And I think I do. I just don’t want to get wrapped up in worrying about saying it right now. But I do.” Deciding that was enough for one day, Mila forced a big grin. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

He smiled back, the emotion never quite reaching his eyes. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

She gave his hand a squeeze, not letting go. “Good. Maker forbid people come to think I’m capable of serious emotion.”

He opened his mouth to speak but the door to the tavern slammed open with unfortunate timing. Their friends spilled in, Isabela darting straight for the bar and Varric and Fenris making their way over to them. Mila was too distracted signing to Isabella for another pint to notice Fenris’ lip curl at the sight of their hands clasped across the table. She barely noticed when Anders untangled his hand from hers, not wanting to start a fight. It didn’t stop him from glaring at the elf as he took his seat beside her.

Mila’s attention snapped back when she felt Fenris’ arm snake around her waist and shift her closer. “Oh! Hi, there.”

“Hi.” His smile was devious and his voice low. Just the way he knew it made her melt.

He tilted his head into her neck and placed a kiss behind her ear before speaking in a barely audible growl. “What were you two talking about?”

Mila laughed off his unusual public display of affection, the blush still showing up on her cheeks. “Oh you know the usual. I believe we were just in the middle of discussing the over-sexualisation of Andraste as an idol.”

Anders couldn’t help but laugh. Isabela arrived with the drinks, ale sloshing everywhere as the mugs thudded down on onto the table.

Varric reached into his pocket and began the typical evening’s ritual. “Cards anyone?”

***

Hawke walked down the corridor, staff in hand and ready. A faint echoing sound stopped her right in her tracks but after hanging back for a few moments she kept on searching.

The place was empty. She had watched them leave. She just wasn’t sure if there’d be any stragglers. She peered into each room, glancing around for clues to something she wasn’t sure of. Part of her told her to leave, to get as far away from this place as possible but the apprehension twisting her stomach wouldn’t settle until she had answers.

She had just watched an army of incredible proportions leave the Templar hold, bound for a destination she did not know and along with them, scores of twisted beasts that leaked red lyrium. Even from her distant hiding spot she could smell the corruption and it made her feel sick as the blood in her veins hummed in response.

The halls she walked were red and littered with the bodies of Templars.

Not enough of them.

The thought came to her out of both malice and reasoned thought. There weren’t enough of them. The majority of the Templar force must have been with the army. She swallowed the thick lump in her throat and continued picking her way through the bodies.

A sound nearby made her stop dead in her tracks, lightning already playing on her fingers. She felt a presence at her back and spun, viciously lashing out. Nothing. Her breathing was heavy and her pulse was rushing. She calmed down enough to realise her breathing was now the only sound. She tried to take control of her nerves and master the situation. She realised now her hands were shaking, a feeling of being on the edge of a precipice consuming her capacity to think straight.

Suddenly her ears caught onto a new sound. Metal on stone. A regular clanking. Boots. More than one set.

Mila backed up to the wall, panic threatening to take hold. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, flashing them open the next moment. Her eyes scanned the hall and estimated the distance of the boots and the people wearing them. She turned and found a door to her right. She tried the handle but it was locked. She shoved her shoulder against it but it wouldn’t budge. The ringing steps grew closer. She looked back at the door and the metal lock.

Panic started to creep through her veins, its noxious hold reaching forward to drag her down but she pushed it away, holding it off as best she could. Her time was running out and the long corridor lacked any more places to hide. Without thinking she slammed her palm to the lock and summoned a steady stream of flames. The door shook and the metal lock began to soften under her touch. The metal lock finally gave way, dripping down to the cool flagstones with a hiss.

Mila saw the hint of armour coming into view around the corner and darted inside the room. She pressed herself to the cold wall beside the door, listening closely to the footfall, waiting for a faltered step which might indicate they would come into the room.

Her heart was beating hard in her chest as the boots continued on their trajectory, past the door and her hiding spot. Once she was sure they had passed, she dared to pull it open, tentatively leaning forward to catch sight of their backs walking down the hallway.

Templars. Three of them.

The realisation rushed to her and her hand tightened around the staff she held. She took a step toward them but something pulled her back.

A hand.

She turned and swung her staff behind her, again finding nothing but thin air.

“They won’t find you here and you won’t find what you’re looking for in them.”

Mila spun again, this time, eyes finding a small boy perched on a low bookshelf across the room.

She kept her voice low, deeply aware the keep was not as empty as she expected. “Who the hell are you?”

She blinked and the boy disappeared. He was suddenly behind her, sending her jumping backwards, staff raised.

“Revenge is your poison. You keep drinking it because you think it dulls the pain but it’s making you bleed inside. I can see it. You’re dying. Dying. To find him.”

Mila felt a tear run down her cheek. She stared at the boy. “Who are you?” The words came as a whisper.  
“He doesn’t want to be found. Not like that.” He reached forward and placed his hand on her staff, softly pushing it down.

The tears were falling fast now but she was barely aware of them. Her eyes were locked on the boy who hid beneath his wide brim hat. His words were taking her apart in a way she had never felt.

“Who…” The words were lost in her throat as her heart threatened to fall to pieces.

“You should forget. It will help. Dull the pain. That’s what you want.”

Mila looked up at him, realising for the first time she was on her knees. “I…”

The boy lifted his hand above her head and closed his eyes. Without thinking she grabbed his wrist. The boy’s face frowned confusion.

“No. Don’t. Please.” Her hand dropped his, her shoulders sinking further so that she had to reach forward to stop herself from collapsing to the ground completely. She felt exhausted.

The boy shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

“I… Can’t forget. I don’t want to. Not him. Don’t take him away.”

The boy looked at her for a moment more, the confusion holding tight. He nodded slowly.

Mila took a deep breath and reached up to the desk beside her to help her get to her feet. She struggled but made it, leaning heavily on the desk. 

She turned to look at the boy but he was gone. Her eyes darted all the way around the room and found nothing. What she found most strange was that she wasn’t surprised. Her head felt heavy and her thoughts were fogged. It wasn’t until her elbow knocked into the marble bust behind her that she realised the clue she had been looking for was sitting right beside her.

She pulled the pinned letter from the Empress’ face and read it slowly, realisation washing over her. She sighed as she tucked it into her belt.

Time to save the world again.


	10. Rhana

There was dancing. Drinking. Laughter. 

People were happy.

Rhana watched them, legs swinging against the stone wall, smiling as people milled around in merriment.

“The Inquisition really knows how to throw a party, eh?” Dorian handed her a mug as he took a seat beside her. Their spot overlooked the village of Haven where soldiers and mages revelled in their victory.

“Well, they know where to find gallons of booze, I’ll give them that.”

“Ha! Cheers to that!”

They clinked mugs and drank.

“I’m glad you stayed.” Rhana looked out at the men and women as they linked arms and danced around in glee.

“I couldn’t miss out on all this excitement, could I?”

She laughed. “Oh no! You would have been a fool to walk away from this life-threatening situation, truly.”

“Well, I do like playing with fire.”

“Spoken like a true mage!”

A fair distance away, two figures locked in deep conversation made their way down towards the party. Rhana’s eyes darted over immediately, recognising the armour from afar. She watched as Cullen and Cassandra concluded whatever their dialogue and parted ways. The Commander was left alone, surveying the celebration.

Rhana felt Dorian’s shoulder softly knock into hers. “We wouldn’t have a thing for strapping young Templars, now would we?”

Her attention snapped back to her friend, the blush already starting to spread across her cheeks. She opened her mouth to dish out some witty retort but found herself drawing a blank so instead chose to correct him.

“Ex-Templar. And I don’t know…” She shrugged like a naive little apprentice talking about her first crush. “He is… handsome.”

“I’ll say! I wouldn’t mind.” Dorian turned his own eyes on the Commander and smirked. “Although if you keep ogling him anymore, I’ll get jealous.”

Rhana threw her arm dramatically over her eyes. “Whatever am I supposed to do, surrounded by all these good looking men!”

Again they laughed and Rhana wasn’t sure if it was Dorian’s presence or the alcohol making her feel so at ease. Either way, it was the first night she thought she might actually get some rest when she eventually crawled into bed. The Breach was closed and the mages had demonstrated incredible discipline and willingness to earn the army’s trust. For once, things seemed to be going right. She ignored the voice inside which clawed at her nerves and told her it wouldn’t last. Instead she let out a big sigh and leaned back on her hands, basking in the afterglow of success.

“Why don’t you go over there? Bring our good Commander a drink!” Dorian’s voice brought her out of her reverie.

“There is not enough alcohol in the world to make me go over there.” She spoke with her eyes closed, enjoying the ringing of laughter and happiness around her.

“That’s good because he’s coming over here.”

“HE’S WHAT?!” 

Rhana sat bolt up right, eyes seeking Cullen’s memorable coat and found him making his way towards them. Their eyes met and he offered a small smile as he walked over. She looked away and felt her face heat up. Again, her instinct was to blame the ale but she wasn’t entirely sure.

“I’m going to leave you to it.” Dorian grinned and got to his feet, pausing to brush his robes down. “Next time, we’re sitting on chairs.”

“No! Where are you-”

“Evening, Commander.” Dorian’s voice was smooth as silk.

“Dorian.” Cullen replied with a nod.

The mage sauntered past the ex-Templar and turned to wink at Rhana before heading off.

“Hi.” Rhana added a smile to make up for her pathetic greeting.

She was rewarded with his own smile, which had made her tummy turn too often in meetings. “Is this seat taken?”

“No, go ahead. Although if Dorian’s complaining is anything to go by it’s not exactly a good sitting spot.”

The Commander settled himself with surprising ease considering the bulk of his armour and his overall size.

“I disagree. A good view.”

Rhana nodded in agreement. “It’s nice to see people so happy. And getting along.”

“Absolutely.” He paused and turned to look at her. “You did an incredible job of bringing the mages in.”

“Thank you.” She met his gaze with feigned confidence. “Although it was hardly all down to me. Grand Enchanter Fiona leads the mages. She deserves the credit.”

“Trust me. This was all down to you. I don’t know anyone else who makes things work like you do. We’re lucky to have you.”

She laughed. “I fear you all think too much of me. But I appreciate the thought. Though I’ll have to try especially hard to keep my head from expanding if the compliments keep coming.”

Cullen let out a small chuckle, his hand reaching to worry at the back of his head. “I certainly didn’t meant to make you uncomfortable.”

This time when she giggled, she swore down to the Maker it was alcohol. “Hardly! As a rule, there a very few times when you can over-compliment a girl.”

“Heh. I see. I’m not exactly… well versed in these things.”

These things? Did he just… blush?

She cocked her head to the side and watched him in silence until suddenly feeling like she was trying too hard to pry into his thoughts. His voice broke the silence as it threatened to cross over into the realms of awkwardness.

“So you and Dorian are… getting on well.”

“Heh. I guess… He’s good to have around. He’s smarter than anyone I ever met in the Circle, you know. I love talking to him. Honestly, he keeps me grounded. And we seem to fight well together.”

“So you and he are…?”

Rhana turned to the Commander, confused. “Are…? Oh that! Oh no! Oh!” She couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that built up in her stomach. It tumbled out of her and sent her into a fit of hilarity. She eventually caught sight of Cullen’s face and fought to regain control of herself. “Ohh… Sorry. No… Hah… Hahh… Sorry. No.’ She cleared her throat. “No. Dorian and I are not. No. I… I don’t think I’m his type.”

“Ah, right. Sorry. You two just seemed to be spending plenty of time together and… I shouldn’t have asked anyway… It’s not my place.”

High on the evening’s mood, Rhana playfully shoved the Commander’s arm. “Oh, come now. Don’t be silly! You can ask. It’s just that Dorian… is… Well, I’m not certain but I really don’t think I’m his type.”

“Right.” Cullen fixed his attention on one of the fires, which burnt brightly below them amid the mass of people that congregated tonight.

Feeling emboldened, Rhana dove in. “What about you? … Anyone in your life?”

“Oh no. My life hasn’t really… allowed for that.”

“Why’s that? Do Templars have vows against it?”

She smiled when she saw him shift uncomfortably. It was the first time she had seen him somewhat vulnerable.

“Uh, well. Some do, certainly. I haven’t taken such vows…” He smiled awkwardly. “Can we change the subject perhaps?”

“Of course.” Rhana reached back for her mug, and rolled it in her palms as she smiled to herself.

The next few moments felt like being wrenched from one of those peaceful, sluggish dreams. Torn violently from the pleasant embrace of sleep into the cold harsh reality of day.

Bells were tolling and people were shouting. A scout sprinted to the foot of the wall where they perched just as the sounds reached them.

“FORCES SPOTTED IN THE HILLS, SIR!”

Cullen had leapt off the wall before Rhana even had time to react. In the back of her mind, she heard orders being issued and commands passed around. Everyone was running, but Rhana remained still, eyes fixed ahead beyond the walls of the village.

Across the valley, a host swarmed down towards them. They would be in the army camp within minutes and at Haven’s gates shortly after.

Cassandra arrived at her side as she got to her feet and stopped to watch the incoming army approach.

“What the…” The warrior drew her sword. “We need to get to the gates.”


	11. Ellaria

Anders reclined against a pillar, arms crossed and eyes scanning the horizon. The sun was setting and taking with it any remaining warmth in the air. His arms crossed over his chest as he breathed out.

“I don’t understand. Why didn’t you contact me?”

He turned back to see Ellaria sitting across the ruins of the room they had chosen to occupy for the night. She sat with her knees up and leaned forward on them with her elbows. Her head was buried in her hands so he couldn’t read her expression but he had a fairly good idea of what she was thought.

“You think you were any more contactable than I was?” He gave a small laugh.

She raised her head, eyes fixed on the ground. Her horse whickered in the room below as a breeze swept through the open ruins. Anders tugged his cloak tighter around his torso and he made his way over to the relatively sheltered corner his Warden-Commander occupied.

“I thought about it… We both did. We just decided you had enough to worry about.”

She turned to look at him, the fury barely concealed. “Bullshit! You should have told me. I could have fought for you. Overturned the decision. I could have helped you. You didn’t need to run.”

The information she had received from the Wardens of Ander’s condemnation was vague and reached her too late to make any difference. She had worried and fretted for months until Alistair had been able to hear through back channels that he had been spotted in Kirkwall, safe and alive. They had done what they could to stifle those rumours and keep his location a secret but that also meant sacrificing any opportunity to speak to him themselves. 

She couldn’t distinguish whether she was upset with him for not seeking her out or herself for not being able to help.

“I’m sorry.”

She took a deep breath, steadying her emotions. “Me too.”

They sat in silence for a while, each contemplating the events that had led them here. She had told him of her intentions to travel to Weisshaupt and he had offered to travel with her a while, his destination still unset. She didn’t voice the pathetic feeling of reassurance she had felt at the thought of having a friend by her side. It had been a while, but he remained one of the few people she felt comfortable with, even after all this time. Anders wouldn’t judge her, just as she wouldn’t lay judgement on him.

“I’m afraid to ask but… Have you been hearing it too?”

She smiled sadly. “I was wondering when you’d ask.”

“So it’s true.”

“What is?”

“We all are hearing it… The Calling.”

She nodded slowly.

“But it doesn’t feel right... I mean I don’t know if it’s supposed to but… Do you know what I mean?”

“I do. I’m sure it’s not meant to feel like this. That’s why I’m going.” She had already decided to omit Avernus’ research from her motives when asked. It was simpler.

“You think the First Warden will know what to do?”

“You want me to answer that honestly?”

He chuckled. “I suppose I know the answer.”

“I don’t know if there is anything at Weisshaupt that can help… But I ran out of options.”

He nodded slowly. “So, Alistair is…?”

“Back in Ferelden. There was too much going on for me to leave without knowing there was someone there… He understood that.” She spoke as if saying the words out loud made it true but the thought of him in that moment tore at the seams that held her together. She wrapped her arms around her chest, not against the cold but rather the fear of physically falling to pieces as the guilt continued to eat away at her after all these years.

The doubt in her voice echoed in the small ruins, leaving Anders to catch on to her mental state. “I’m sure he does, Ellaria.”

“Does he?” Her head hung forward, strands of brown hair falling from her braid in front of her eyes. “He should, I know he should… So why did he fight me so much on it? He knew we couldn’t sit by and watch this happen so why… why does he still think this is what he wants? Being with me.” Her stream of consciousness began to spill in place of the tears that still refused to come. “He says he has no regrets about being by my side, about refusing the throne but he knew, he knew it was going to be like this. There was never going to be a time when we weren’t needed. And I…” She took a deep breath as a sob threatened to choke her words away. “… I’m to blame. I should have let him go. He wouldn’t be suffering if I had let him go.”

She felt a hand on her shoulder.

“We do what we have to. You showed me that. Our duty will always come first, no matter what we wish or what others ask of us. And love… It just has to follow and find its place where it can.” 

Memories of that moment all those years ago flashed before his eyes. Hawke’s face as he promised to follow her no matter what. His promise to fight for what she believed in, never mind his prejudice. Anders has been witness to true love in that moment. He only hoped that Fenris had kept his promise all these years.

“If your love is as strong as it seems, it matters not what choices you made in the past. It will survive.”

She squeezed her middle a little tighter.

“You’ll see him again. I know it.”

They sat in silence as Ellaria weathered the pain in her heart, the warm hand on her shoulder keeping her firmly grounded.

Another gust of wind broke them from their reflections and forced them to huddle into their cloaks a little more. 

“You should get some sleep. I’ll take first watch.”

“Are you sure?” She felt suddenly drained, the emotions having taken it all out of her.

Anders nodded his approval as he got to his feet, returning to the open hole in the ruins’ wall where he could look over the moonlight bathed plains of the countryside. 

Ellaria walked over to her horse’s pack and drew out a heavy wool blanket that had seen better days. She came to settle into the corner again and draped the blanket over herself, using the excess to bundle a meagre pillow under her head as she lay down. She was asleep within minutes, sleeping sounder now that she had someone to watch her back at night.

Anders waited until he heard her breathing even out before getting to his feet again. He glanced over at her sleeping form. Her brow was creased and her eyes moved restlessly under her lids. She would have undoubtedly slipped straight into the nightmares he too was used to experiencing at night.

He wandered down through the ruins, stretching his legs, never straying more than a few yards from where his old Warden-Commander slept. He approached her horse and gave it a calming stroke as he continued on past. He felt Justice bristling under the surface, thoughts and opinions manipulating Anders’ own emotions until he lost his patience.

“Enough.” The word was whispered but the tone was severe as he spoke to the other part of himself.

He knew the spirit wouldn’t appreciate the re-emergence of his feelings for Hawke but the recent conversation had drawn them out before he could stop them. Reluctantly, he felt Justice retreat, leaving him to indulge himself in pointless musings. He thought about where she was now, what she was doing. Was she happy? Was he by her side right now? Did she think of him at all? Did she wonder where he was and if he even still lived?

Mila had been instrumental in Anders’ escape. The four of them, with Fenris and Isabela had fled shortly after the fall of Meredith, slipping through the Templars’ grasp with dangerously little time to spare. Bela had been the first to leave them, buying them some time by leading the chasing Templars on a goose chase across the Waking Sea. Not long after, Anders had insisted they part ways, much to Hawke’s disapproval. Fenris had been the one to persuade her, his arguments surprisingly unbiased, although that had not stopped Anders from childishly scoffing at his support for him to leave.

Their parting had been quick, but she had had held onto him tightly as they embraced and she had whispered her promise to see him again into the feathers of the coat he now sorely missed. He had stayed quiet, not wanting to make promises as grand as this one seemed to be. It was too much wish for. Justice had remained graciously absent as she placed a last kiss on his cheek. Not even Fenris had dared to speak a word against the gesture.

They had parted amicably themselves, Anders drawing the elf back one last time before they left and had warned him to protect her at all costs. Anders had considered it a warning at the time although looking back it had been more of a plea. Fenris’ words had comforted him, although he did not tell him so.

“With my life.”

That’s what he said. And I believe him.

A faint whistle raised the hairs on the back of his neck, his thoughts immediately pushed down into the deep emotional recesses of his mind. Justice trickled forward as the runes they had set up on the perimeters of the ruins were woken up by an intruding presence.

Anders slipped back through the rooms, returning to their second floor hideout where Ellaria still slumbered. He went straight to the gap where he had a view of the northern walls.

Nothing. Just moonlit trees and innocent shadows.

That was when another whistle joined the first. He spun on his heels, as one of the runes on the southern walls was set off.

Something wasn’t right.

He dashed to Ellaria’s side shaking her awake, placing a finger over his lips as soon as her eyes fluttered open. She was alert in seconds, hands already reaching for the sword and dagger she slept with without fault.

They climbed back to their feet, both straining to catch even the hint of a sound.

Dead silence.

Anders snuck back to his watching point, back against the wall as he leaned around to take a look.

This time he saw it. Those not-so-innocent shadows shifting. Someone was definitely there.

A muffled noise nearby had Ellaria moving to the staircase in the next room. She moved fast and quietly, not wanting to alert the intruders that they were onto them. 

Her horse whinnied and she caught sight of black cloth at the bottom of the stairs. She stalked back into their room and flanked the doorframe, spine flush against the stone. She gestured to Anders. 

He crossed the room, Justice beginning to allow himself some room to breathe, making Anders’ skin glow the rich blue colour of lyrium. Ellaria barely reacted, thoughts locked onto their precarious predicament.

Both of their attentions were so fixed on the doorway that neither noticed the black figure crawling in through the glass-less window frame across the room. By the time the intruder’s footsteps on the stone announced of his presence, it was too late.

Anders moved in front of the Warden-Commander when he saw the moonlight bouncing off of a drawn blade. In the same moment, Ellaria caught onto the sound of boots on the stairs and tried to turn towards them but was too slow. A hand slapped down on her mouth and pulled her back, more hands coming down to restrain her.

Anders turned at the sound of her blades falling to the ground and lashed out, sparks hitting the one who grasped her right arm square in the chest. With his back turned, the mage didn’t even see the blow coming.

Ellaria screamed as Anders sunk to his knees, violent blue streaks spreading across his skin as Justice surged forward to fight. She fought uselessly, kicking her legs back against armoured shins as the man who had come through the window reached for Anders’ head. Black fog and a sickly green glow spread forth from the man’s hand just as Anders- or was it Justice? – prepared to strike back.

The effect was instantaneous, however. Anders fell face forward, his blue glow fading immediately. She screamed into the hand again. The man stepped over the body and came face to face with her. Her teeth snapped in an attempt to try and bite the hand that kept her muffled but she bit only into leather.

“Are we taking her too?” One of the men holding her asked.

“He wants the mage and his associates.” He took another step forward and eyed her carefully. “So whoever she is, she’s coming with us.”

He raised his hand to her forehead and as the black fog clouded her eyes she caught her first glimpse of the emblem on his cloak.

The white chalice in a sea of red was the last thing she remembered before everything faded to black.


	12. Rhana

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is when my HTML laziness means AO3 readers may have a tough time following. I rely a lot on italics to pace my work and whilst I've thought it hasn't mattered too much so far, you might find it a bit bothersome for this chapter italics help to manage the transitions to and from flashbacks. It's a confusing chapter to start with, sorry. So feel free to read it on Tumblr where the formatting is in its fullest: http://phantomhivewritesstuff.tumblr.com/
> 
> While you're there you'll also find full character profiles and commissions of my leading ladies too... If you're interested. :)

Just a little further.

The wind clawed at her cloak mercilessly, each gust threatening to bring her to her knees.

I can make it to that tree.

She forced her legs through the knee high snow, the deafening howls of the gale leaving her deaf to even the sound of her own voice.

She faltered, feet sinking a little deeper. The sudden shift rocked her body forward and just as she thought she was about to fall, her body slammed against the tree. She huddled into herself, grateful for the firm support of the tree trunk. Her head knocked against the bark as she breathed out.

So cold.

“Huh? Rhana?” 

Kane squinted at her in the darkness, eyes blurry from heavy sleep.

“I saw them again…” Her little voice whispered from his bedside.

He groaned and reached out to her taking those little hands in his own. “Come on up then.”

With combined sleepy efforts, she managed to scramble up onto the plush bed. Kane pulled the quilt back, letting his sister burrow underneath like a small animal seeking shelter.

He hissed when her cold feet pressed against his legs. “Argh! Get those ice cubes away from me!” He shoved her away only to have her shuffle straight back to him, a little giggle escaping her lips. This time cold little hands slipped to grip the back of his neck securing her to him. “Maker, Rhana! How are you so cold!” 

“Sorry…” She spoke into his nightshirt, her grin hidden but not going unnoticed.

He gritted his teeth as he let her warm her extremities against his skin. “So what happened?”

She shifted again, her head still buried in his chest as she recalled her dreams for him. She trembled as she spoke of the figures that had approached her. Vile words and an acrid stench marking them as the monsters she tried so hard to avoid at night. Her brother hugged her when she told him of how they had spoken of their mother.

“They said we could see her. Both of us. I just had to take their hand but… I knew, I knew. You said always to say no… But they said you wanted to see mummy too… That you would be angry because I said no.”

The tears were following freely now and he squeezed her a bit tighter. “I’m not angry, Rhana. You did the right thing.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am.” He placed a kiss on the top of her head, reassured when her soft sobs started dwindle.

Eventually she raised her head, her now warm hands dropping from his neck to tuck under her crossed arms. She smiled up at him, the gaps left by her fallen milk teeth making the gesture much more comical than she intended. Kane couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

“Ha! Look at your little gap-toothed mug!”

Her smile dropped into a pouting scowl as she pushed him away. “Look at me? What about your stupid long skinny arms.” Her little fingers prodded at his limbs. “I thought boys were supposed to be big and strong.”

“Hey! I’m still growing, nug face!” He continued blocking her pokes with said long arms.

“Yeah yeah! In the wrong direction! You’re like a spider with those stupid arms and legs!”

“Oh yeah, well at least it means I can do this!” He snaked his hands under the quilt and grabbed her middle beginning a violent tickling assault on her tummy. She wriggled and laughed, soon pleading him to stop. Her arms and legs flailed in a desperate attempt to shift him off of her but to no avail. “Don’t you wish you had longer arms so you could push me off, eh? Haha!”

When his victory was finally agreed he fell back onto the pillows both of them huffing and giggling, enjoying this as one of the few times when they actually got to be children. No adults telling them to behave like the proper little lord and lady they were.

“Are you finally warm again?”

Rhana’s lips cracked as she smiled as his voice echoed in her head. Her eyes fluttered open, eyelashes batting away the continuous onslaught of snowflakes.

She saw it then. The spark of warm light ahead.

Just as suddenly as she saw it, a veil of snow swept across to hide it from sight again.

Summoning every ounce of strength, she pushed herself off of the tree, wading through the soft mound of snow that had accumulated around her knees while she rested. She tucked her arms tight across her chest and cradled her aching wrist, which Corypheus had savagely held her up by. 

The cold had now fully bled through her leathers to work its way into the fibres of her underclothes.

Her jaw was firmly clenched as she made her way to the place she thought the light had been. A particularly violent sweep of the wind hit her square in the chest and pushed her body back.

“Don’t you fucking dare touch her!”

Rhana was thrown back out of the way as her big brother pounced.

Kane towered over Jadon, face right in his, their noses practically touching. Rhana noted the flash of fear in the smaller boy’s face. They were the same age but Kane had two inches on his stepbrother, not to mention he had already started filling out across his shoulders. He looked a fair five years older than his true age thanks to his build. It didn’t help that Jadon had been and would likely always be a sickly whelp of a boy. Rhana sneered as the thought crossed her mind.

The blond boy stumbled back a step before squaring his shoulders once more. “Or what?”

Rhana had to admit he had balls. Her eyes darted to her brother who was practically shaking with rage.

“OR I’M GOING TO TEAR YOU TO FUCKING PIECES YOU STUPID FUCK!”

He had clearly been hanging out in the barracks again. He always came back from those booze-ups the soldiers irresponsibly let him sneak into with an impressively colourful language.

Kane’s knuckles were white as he tightened his fists. Rhana’s heart started beating faster, panic slowly rising as she realised where this was heading.

“Kane, come on just leave it. He’s not worth it.” She stepped up behind him.

“Oh go on, let him.” Jadon jeered. “I’d love to see what would happen if I showed up to dinner all black and blue.”

Her brother growled and bared his teeth. “You won’t even make it to dinner if you don’t start running away like the little coward you are.”

Jadon crossed his arms and Rhana’s heart sank, now sure this was not going to end well. “No. This is my home. Besides, as soon as I start screaming people will come running.”

It was the cocky little smirk that he tagged onto the end of his sentence that did it. Kane’s fist flew into his face before Rhana could pull him back. Jadon fell down like a rag doll, so stunned he wasn’t even able to cry out.

Kane was on top of him in a flash, arms swinging his fist down into him.

“KANE! Stop it! Kane, please!! You know what Imelda will do!” She tugged at his vest, barely moving him as he continued pummelling their stepbrother. “Come ON!”

Jadon groaned under him, his mouth full of blood.

“Kane!”

Finally, he dropped his fists with a grunt and got to his feet. 

“Don’t you EVER lay a finger on my sister again or next time I won’t fucking stop!” He turned his back on the blond and took Rhana’s hand, pulling her away.

“Come on, let’s go.”

Her legs started moving again, repeating the mechanical movements her brain requested of them.

The veil of snow parted as she neared the fading light. Embers were being steadily suffocated by the storm raging around them but the recent presence of people was undeniable.

Relief washed over her when she realised she wasn’t completely lost but it was quickly followed and overshadowed by her waning strength.

I can’t stop now. Not now.

She dragged her feet forward, the numb appendages following unwillingly.

Just a bit further. I’ll find them.

Her progress began to slow drastically as she felt the cold seize her joints and sharp stabbing pains spreading through her limbs.

One more step.

And another.

I… have to…

She stumbled forward, this time falling all the way to her knees.

“Rhana, please.”

“No! How could you do this, Kane? You promised…”

He knelt in front of her, hands reaching out for hers. “I can’t stay, you know that.”

“Then let me go with you…” Gold met gold as their eyes met. 

People so often mistook them for twins on first sight and it was only Kane’s sheer size and bulk that identified his as older. 

“You can’t leave me here.” She resented the tone she was using but she was desperate.

“Rhana, you can’t leave. You’re safe here.” She scoffed at his words. “You know what I mean. Out there something is bound to happen, bound to set you off… The Templars will find you and take you away… They won’t find you here.”

She turned her head away. “What about your promise, then?”

He smiled. “It’s been a while you haven’t needed me to fight your battles, sis.”

“You still promised.”

“I promised to protect you until the day I die and I will.”

“How can you protect me when you’re halfway across Thedas?” She challenged him with a glare, satisfied when she saw a flicker of doubt cross his face.

There was a beat of silence between them.

“And how am I supposed to protect you if I’m rotting in some cell where you can’t even find me?” Rhana looked away again, fighting the urge to pout like a spoiled child. “You and I both know Imelda doesn’t want me around. Jadon doesn’t stand a chance to succeed father while I’m still here. She’s just waiting for the moment I give her a reason to get rid of me and I can’t wait for that to happen. I can’t. I have to do this. And you have to trust me.” 

He pulled her forward by her hands until she slipped her arms around him and he could hold her… one more time.

“I will always be there when you need me. You will never have to face the worst alone.”

“I love you, Kane.”

“I love you too, little sis.”

Rhana closed her eyes watching her younger self in her minds eye. That last moment frozen in time so she could remember what it felt like to have his arms around her. The way he held her close, the warmth of his body keeping everything else at bay. She could almost feel him…

“Rhana… Rhana! I need you to stay with me. Rhana, wake up!”

The memory slipped away as the pain sunk back in.

“Rhana, stay awake. Can you hear me?”

Warm fur surrounded her, melting away enough of the pain that she found the strength to open her eyes a fraction. She smiled softly when she did.

“… Cullen.”

It had been too long since she’d felt safe in someone’s arms again. It felt good.


	13. Ellaria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! This chapter has some slightly graphic violence and alludes to torture and rape so if such topics make you uncomfortable- please proceed with caution. I don't want to upset anyone!

Ellaria sank down into the armchair and dropped her head into her hands.

"You're aware of what you're asking, right?"

"I... am."

Ellaria sighed as her confused emotions battled it out within her.

"Then could you at least have the decency to act like it?"

She winced at her own tone but had always found herself being blunt around her friend. It was one of the founding pillars of their friendship. Frank honesty and calling the other out on their bullshit. This time it felt different though.

Morrigan turned to face the fire. "It’s your choice."

Ellaria sat in silence half expecting the witch to leave. But she didn't. Her friend stayed rooted to the spot whilst the flames raged in the fireplace beside her. Eventually Ellaria's hands dropped from her face.

"How am I supposed to ask this of Alistair? Did you think that part through? I mean honestly, why come to me with this, Morrigan?" Her voice broke as she spoke.

She sought to meet her friend's eyes but the witch remained with her back turned.

"Morrigan. Look at me." She did. "Why didn't you go straight to him? It's his decision. Not mine."

There was a tense silence as they held each other's gaze.

"Because you are my friend... And I want you to live."

Ellaria's tried uselessly to blink away the pain but the tears fell nonetheless. She wanted to hold her friend, cry with her, tell her she forgave her. But she couldn't. Now was not the time for weakness. Those moments were left in the past to burn with the rest of her youth. Ellaria would no longer be the bright young girl with a fire in her heart. She was the fire. And she would burn down everything that stood in her way.

She brushed away the last tears that would ever streak her face and stood, this time strictly avoiding Morrigan's gaze.

"I'll speak to Alistair." She turned her back on her friend and headed for the door. "If he agrees, I'll have him go to your chambers this evening. If not… we'll not speak of this again." 

With that, she left Morrigan behind in her own chambers, shedding the tears she had too much pride to share.

***

When she eventually came to, Ellaria was gagged and tied firmly to a tree. She groaned as the aches and pains began to settle in with her newfound consciousness.

"Wakey wakey rise and shine sweetheart."

A hand came forward to slap her softly on the cheek.

"There we go. I was getting a bit worried you might never join us. But here you are."

She looked up to find a man kneeling beside her, his face uncomfortably close to her own. She looked behind him to where it seemed her captors had set up camp. 

Captors. Anders!

Flashes of memory came rushing back to her and she started to struggle against her restraints. 

"Whoa there, sweetheart! Calm down. You ain't going anywhere m'fraid." He gave her a sadistic kind of smile. "Hey, Rylen! Tell the boss she's awake, would ya?"

A grunt in the background confirmed receipt of the order. Ellaria tried to take in as many details about the camp as possible.

Open fire. Three tents. Minimum three captors. ‘Rylen’, the man before her and two more involved in deep conversation across the fire. Correction. Minimum four. 

The one kneeling in front her was eyeing her up in a way that made her shift as best as her restraints would allow.

On his belt: a dirk and a money pouch. His hands were calloused but particularly around the fingertips. Archer. His armour was heavy leather. It would withstand most cuts and scrapes but a well-placed strike could slice right through.

A familiar gruff voice calling out from across the fire cut off her thoughts. "She awake then?"

The man before her jumped to his feet. "Yes, sir."

"She said anything?"

"Not yet. She’s still gagged. Want me to take it off?"

"Leave it on for now. I've got a pretty good idea who she is anyway." The man stood on the other side of the fire as he spoke. "Suppose we should get her friend up."

Ellaria tugged again at her restraints at the mention of what could only be Anders.

The 'boss' knelt down and shook the body which had, up until now, remained hidden from view on the other side of the fire.

"Come on, abomination! Up you get."

She heard Anders grunt as a blow was dealt. She flinched at the sound, now more focused on trying to find a weakness in her bonds. The man dragged Anders up by the hair to a kneeling position and she saw his face for the first time.

Her friend was battered and bruised and his skin was caked in blood. However long she'd been out, Anders had been woken much earlier. He was mercilessly dragged across the camp to kneel before her. She kicked her tied up legs in protest, the anger causing her to growl and fight as wildly as she could. Anders fell forward into the dirt when he was released, hands tied firmly behind his back.

She finally looked up at the big man and instantly recognized him as the one who had subdued them almost without effort. She hissed at him behind her gag and his lips turned up at the corners in vile amusement.

"Take the gag off, Howl.”

The archer tugged the rope out of her mouth and she spat. The revolting taste of the material still lingered but the act had been enough to make Howl jump back. 

“What have you done to him?”

The ‘boss’ laughed. “Oh you don’t want to know.” He took a step forward and crouched in front of her. He reached out and took her chin into his right hand with a firm grip, which no struggling could shake. “Although you’ll get an idea soon enough.”

Anders groaned and rolled onto his back. “D… don’t… touch her.” His voice was hoarse and barely audible but loud enough to catch the big man’s attention. 

He threw a sideways glance to the mage and turned back to grin at Ellaria. He reached behind him and drew a blade from his belt. It flashed in the firelight and mirrored the malicious glint in his eyes. She took in an involuntary breath as she watched him, powerless to fight back.

The blade came up to her face and traced a sharp line from her forehead, around her brow and down her cheekbone, threatening, but never quite, breaking the flesh. All she could do was concentrate on not shifting a muscle.

As the point rested against her cheek he spoke again, this time his voice uncharacteristically soft. “Let’s start with introductions shall we. Name’s Marcus. I lead this sorry band of violent misfits. They might not look like much but they’re the meanest, most sadistic bunch of people I’ve had the pleasure of meeting.” A cursory glance across the camp showed her the smirking faces of said men. A slight shift in the blade’s angle had her eyes settling back on Marcus. 

“Now, see here’s the important part. We’ve been looking for your friend here for a while and it hasn’t been easy. He’s made our job fuckin’ difficult if you know what I mean. But here we are. Finally. So I’m sure you’ll understand if my boys and I need to… relieve some tension…” The point of the blade dug painfully into her cheek for emphasis and Ellaria felt a drop of blood run down the side of her face.

Anders made another muted sound and this time his skin started glow. Before Justice fully assumed control, Marcus threw his hand out and white-hot lashes wrapped around each part of the mage’s body, immobilising him and forcing Justice away once more. Anders cried out as lashes tightened, the magic searing into his flesh.

“Stop it!” Ellaria swung her legs as best she could to destabilise Marcus but he barely flinched. “STOP!!!”

His hand returned to wrap around her neck as the blade came to push into the flesh beneath her jawline.

“Shhshhshhhhh…” His face was now inches away from hers.

She could smell his stale breath on her face as he settled in nice and close.

“You’ll get your turn.” His tongue slipped out and lapped up the blood trail on her cheek.

Ellaria cringed away from him only to have the hand around her neck tighten. She chocked and sputtered until he released her and stepped away. He turned his attention back to Anders who lay still on the forest ground, his eyes seeking hers. They shared a moment of unspoken concern before Anders cringed as Marcus’ boot met his stomach with a sickening crunch.

Anders bit back the cry as best he could but Ellaria felt sick in his stead.

“Why THE FUCK are you doing this?” She screamed.

Marcus slowly turned back to her but the answer came from Anders’ blood caked lips. “Seb… Sebastian…”

Their captor laughed. “That’s Prince Sebastian to you, abomination.”

The other men cheered from around the fire.

Ellaria recalled the heraldry from the night of their capture and realisation dawned on her. They continued to chant the prince’s name whilst Marcus grinned at her. “Our orders were to bring the mage back to Starkhaven for execution… The fact that we caught the person that hid him from our Prince in the first place will surely bring us a hefty reward. Would you not agree… Hawke?”

Anders chocked out a laugh behind him, stunning Marcus and his men into silence.

“Ha... Ha… You… stupid fucks… Ha.”

“You got something to say, mage?”

“Ha… That’s not Hawke.” He spat out a glob of blood. “You just kidnapped the Commander of the Grey. Ha… How do you think the Wardens will react when they find out what you did to her? Ha… Ha…”

Ellaria savoured the look on Marcus’ face as she finally managed to work the fingers of her right hand to the blade hidden in her left gauntlet.


	14. Rhana

“Um… Yes. Well, I should…”

Cullen stepped forward after her, almost reaching for her arm but not quite allowing himself to make contact. “You stayed behind.” His voice dropped so that no one else in the courtyard could possibly be privy to his words. “You could have-”

Rhana felt the blush heating her cheeks.

His hand wavered by hers before dropping down to his side and closing into a fist. “I will not allow the events at Haven to happen again. You have my word.”

She smiled, flustered in the way she was now used to getting when he fixed her with those molten gold-brown eyes.

“I believe you. Thank you, Cullen.” She couldn’t help herself. She loved how he blushed when she used his first name.

If I’m going to feel awkward he can damn well join me!

The blush crept in on cue and he cleared his throat. “We should be getting on to the Great Hall, should we not?”

“Oh! Yes. Of course.” She shook her head and laughed. “For a moment I had pleasantly forgotten about that.”

He chuckled. “It’ll be fine. You look-” His hand reached to rub the ghost of an ache at the back of his neck. “The part.”

“Ha! Thank the sweet elven gods! Do you know how long Vivienne and Dorian had me play dress-up?”

She gave the floor length mantle a slight twirl. The black velvet hugged her body tightly with the gold and emerald trim drawing the eye to all the right places without requiring the garment to be revealing (a point Dorian had much protested). The mantle buttoned down to the waist and then hung over black leggings and matching over-the-knee suede boots which had just enough heel to make the outfit elegant but still practical. In fact, she was quite enjoying wearing something other than travelling clothes and armour. It felt good to be a lady for a bit. Not that she would say the politics were worth it.

“I can only imagine.” Cullen politely replied.

He turned and issued a few more order to his men before starting to lead them up the stairs. They headed side by side towards the hall, where an anxious Josephine waited for Rhana with an instant barrage of information about conduct and procedure.

Cullen walked through the hall behind the Inquisitor, checking his men were in place and taking in all potential threats and mentally cataloguing them. He didn’t miss the way Rhana patiently listened to Josephine, occasionally trying to lighten the mood with lightening fast wit. He smiled to himself as he watched her take a seat upon the dais on the throne, which had caused her such outrage at their previous meeting. It had taken Leliana and Josephine a full hour to convince her that it was not ‘contrived’ to have a place of authority from where to hold court. He took his place at the foot of the platform to the left, across from Josephine who stood ready with her scrolls. Leliana was no doubt watching from some nearby shadowy alcove.

Rhana settled in the seat and crossed her legs. Her arms rested on the sides of the chair, fingers twitching anxiously without anything to occupy them. They settled for spinning the ring around her finger as she waited.

Josephine stepped forward and silenced the gathered crowd of nobles and all manner of Skyhold residents.

“Inquisitor. To commence today’s proceedings, I present to you Skyhold’s prisoners, commencing with Gereon Alexius. Queen Anora recently granted him into our custody in acknowledgement of your aid.”

Discontent murmurs could be heard throughout the hall as the Magister was brought to kneel at the foot of the dais. The people who couldn’t see him surged forward to catch a glimpse of the Tevinter mage who had sought enslave Redcliffe. With a nod from Cullen, soldiers stepped up and hustled the crowd back, maintaining the delicate balance between curiosity and chaos. Rhana breathed a sigh of relief. She knew she was in safe hands with the Commander nearby.

“The formal charges are apostasy, attempted enslavement and attempted assassination- on your life no less, Inquisitor.” Josephine continued, her voice carrying across the heads of the gathered nobles. “Tevinter has stripped him of his rank. You may judge him as you see fit.”

Silence fell upon everyone and Rhana watched her prisoner. He looked even worse than when they had brought him to Skyhold. Apparently he had been refusing to eat or drink. Looking at him she thought it was a miracle he was even able to walk down the hall. None of this alleviated the fury she physically experienced in her chest when she thought of what the man had tried to do.

“Alexius, do you wish to offer anything in your defence?” Her voice echoed against the cold stone walls, amplifying the power and conviction in her tone.

He slowly looked up at her, letting the light fall upon his sunken face. “You’ve won nothing. The people you’ve saved, the acclaim you’ve gathered- you’ll lose it all in the storm to come.” He fixed her firmly as he spoke. “Render your judgement… Inquisitor.” The words could not have been spoken with more spite.

Rhana looked around the room. Men and women watched her expectantly. Her eyes scanned the room and eventually locked onto the ones she sought in the balcony, overlooking the scene. Dorian nodded slowly.

She took a deep breath and began, the words she’d rehearsed readying themselves for projection. “Your magic was theoretically impossible, Alexius.” She paused, mentally preparing herself for the shock that was about to befall the room. “I could use someone like you. Your sentence is to serve- under guard- as a researcher on all things magical for the Inquisition.”

As predicted: uproar. Questions and whispers filled the room but she sat back and dared anyone to come forward and protest. Dorian smiled from above. Thank you he mouthed. She nodded in acknowledgement but otherwise kept her face a stern mask. No time to show softness.

Alexius frowned and hung his head, showing no obvious signs of relief. “… Very well.”

He was taken away and another prisoner was brought forward. The two following cases were errant mages who pledged unwavering loyalty to Alexius. They were each given the opportunity to work, as Alexius would, for the Inquisition by assisting the mages. The second refused, so she had him sent back to the cells until he chose to change his mind.

Once their rulings were set, Rhana sat through the rants and rambles of various noblemen and women, listening in silence to their concerns. As a result, she ordered Cullen to send a small force of men to protect the farmlands to the east, commanded Leliana to investigate rumours of disloyal followers within Skyhold and asked Josephine to get in touch with an Orlesian family who claimed to have ‘unique’ resources they wished to share with the Inquisition as a show of good faith.

One by one they came up to her and she addressed each and every last one of their causes, all the while thinking about what Skyhold’s chefs might have cooked up for dinner. The thought of food made her stomach gurgle and she prayed no one heard.

“Lastly, Inquisitor, I would like to present to you a mercenary who wishes to pledge his allegiance and blade to your cause. He claims to have travelled many leagues to be here today and- Inquisitor?”

Rhana slowly rose from her seat as the mercenary stepped out of the crowd. The look of recognition and disbelief had Cullen clutching the hilt of his sword, prepared to ward off any unwelcome visitors. Neither mercenary nor Inquisitor moved. The room held its breath as they watched the scene in confusion.

She stepped forward and stopped on the last step. Her hands went to cover her mouth but Cullen relaxed the instant he saw the smile hidden behind it. He took another look at the mercenary, now face to face with his Inquisitor. Their silhouettes threw him for a turn and across the podium he saw Josephine spot the resemblance too.

“It’s really you.” She laughed out in a whisper, hands finally dropping.

The mercenary stepped up, flashing a cocky grin. “Missed me, sis?”

She managed a nod before he gathered her up in his arms swung her down from the step in a spinning embrace. Rhana buried her head into his shoulder unsure whether she wanted to laugh or cry.


	15. Mila

Fenris handed the child over to her mother’s waiting arms.

“Hurry inside and tell everyone hide. Do not come out until we say so!” He placed his hand on the panicked woman’s shoulder. “Understand?”

“Y-yes!” She stammered before doing as he instructed and leading the rest of the refugees indoors. 

He waited until he heard the iron latch slam into place. He turned his back on the small house and walked up the path to where Mila waited, staff in hand.

“Are they safe?” She jabbed the blade of her staff into the soft earth at her feet so that it stood erect without support.

“As much as they will be. Any sign of them?”

“Not yet.”

“They will come. They know where we are.”

“And we’ll stop them.” Mila grinned at him as if she were telling a particularly cheesy joke.

He let out a soft chuckle. “As simple as that, right?”

“Why shouldn’t it be?”

Fenris took a moment and met her gaze. Her blue eyes were bright with playfulness but the signs of stress were plain on her face. Neither of them had had much sleep recently. They had hurried the group of defenceless refugees without pause, desperately trying to build a gap between them and their pursuers. They had finally found a spot where the lay of the land gave them a slight advantage over the incoming troop of Templars who outnumbered the both of them three to one.

They stood there now, at the point where the road dipped down into a faux-valley. They would be able to funnel their attackers and pick them off whilst controlling the flow of the battle. At least that was the plan.

“We should take a break after this.”

“A break?” Mila scoffed at him but he remained his usual stern self.

His hand reached up to cup her face, his thumb brushing softly over the skin of her cheek. “Yes, a break. From all of this. Just for a little while… I don’t want to see you run yourself into the ground because of this.”

She smiled at him, moved by the concern in his voice. “And pray tell, where would we go? Some sunny island off the coast of Antiva?”

Fenris offered one of his rare smiles. “If that is what you wish, amatus.”

“Ha! That does sound… nice.” For a moment she let herself believe they might actually do that. She leaned her head into his hand and he came in to press his lips against hers. The kiss was soft and undemanding. A moment of calm in the chaos. It made her smile into his lips.

“Perhaps the very first thing we should do after this maybe is spend some time… just you and me?” Mila tugged at his belt until his hips knocked into hers. She leaned her head into his jaw and spoke at a whisper. “What do you think?”

Fenris reacted almost immediately, feeling the urge to throw caution to the wind and pin her down in that very instant. Instead he dug into his inhumanly large reserves of willpower and stayed his hands, choosing to bring them down to grasp innocently but firmly her sides. His head dipped and he spoke right into her ear.

“Anything for you, Hawke.”

She moaned as he placed a chaste kiss on her cheek to purposely drive her wild. He knew her body better than she did. Mila laughed and pulled away from him, bested at her own game.

“Very well you sultry elf. Deal! Now, shall we defeat these evil Templars, protect the poor mages and save the day again?” She pulled her staff free of the ground, that cocky grin back in place.

“As always.” Fenris drew his sword and they stood side-by-side, ready.

***

The mere fact that Mila made it into Skyhold unnoticed was not in any way to be taken as a criticism of Commander Cullen’s ability to defend the fort, by any accounts. It had made her whole plan to ‘surprise Varric by scaring the living daylights out of him’ much more of a feat than she originally intended. But what could she say? She was dedicated to the bit. Either way, the fact that three hours later she managed to climb into the garden courtyard through a storm drain barely wider than her shoulders, seemed to be enough of a reason to wind the good Commander up. Even just for old time’s sake. Only after a bit of ribbing would she eventually admit how she broke in so he could bollock his men for not having it covered. She very much looked forward to it all. In the meantime though, she perched on the rooftops overlooking the gardens waiting for a sign of her friend.

After a short while, as described in his letters, the dwarf walked over to the gazebo and took up residence on the curved wooden bench, which sat beneath it. He crossed his legs and flipped open his book before perching his glasses on the end of his nose.

Mila grinned. It was the first time she had seen her friend in over four years. All she wanted to do was run over there screaming like a madwoman running from a giant talking nug, but no.

Committed to the bit.

She worked her way around the rooftops to the far right corner where she levied herself down behind the gazebo and out of the dwarf’s sight. Quietly she crept up until she was just by his shoulder. She paused and opened her mouth to deliver her well-rehearsed witty lin-

“Nice try, Hawke.” Varric spoke into his book.

“You have GOT to be kidding me!”

The dwarf laughed as he finally snapped his book shut and turned to see Mila sporting one of the worst pouts in history.

“A deaf-blind idiot would have heard you coming! Come here!”

She swung her legs over the back of the bench and into the seat beside him. They embraced and laughed.

“Don’t worry, you still surprised me.”

Mila pulled away. “Aha! I knew it!”

He chuckled and glanced around the garden. “You know, we should probably get you out of sight before the Seeker and Nightingale catch word of your arrival.”

“Ugh. I need to speak to this famous Inquisitor you’re all going on about out, so they’ll know soon enough anyway.” She reclined in her seat, ready to relax after her earlier contortionist act.

Varric was having none of it. He hopped to his feet and slid his glasses into his pocket. He tucked his book under his arm and gestured for Mila to follow, which she did. Although, with an undue measure of childish sulkiness.

“About that, Red’s taken her brother and Sparkler to Redcliffe to deal with a private matter. She won’t be back at least until the day after tomorrow. And as for people knowing you’re here… I was hoping to break it to them gently.”

She followed him up the stairs to the balcony that ran around the courtyard. “Aw, don’t worry, Varric. I’m here now! I can protect you from Cassandra.”

“Ha! When she finds out I’ve been lying to her for almost five years, whatever progress we’ve made recently is going to go right down the shitter, I tell you. Not even swooning over you will distract her.”

“You used to be such an optimistic fellow.”

He stopped and led her into one of the many chambers that opened onto the raised concourse. Most of the Inquisitor’s companions had their rooms here. “In here.”

Mila followed him in and took a seat on his bed, suddenly remembering her pack she’d ditched in a courtyard bush. She’d have to fetch that later.

“I’m going to try to sort this whole thing out. For the time being, try and stay out of sight alright?”

“If you insist. But I get the bed!” She threw herself back on the pillows.

“Go ahead. I managed to wrangle out a very comfortable armchair out of Josephine that I tend to fall asleep in anyway.” He nodded to the corner of the room where a messy, paper covered desk sat in front of a luxurious leather chair.

“Not bad, my friend.”

He smiled and took his place in said seat. “Thank you. So, any word from Broody?”

“Nope. What’s the food like around here?” She propped herself up on her elbows, eyes darting around the room instead of meeting his. “I’m starving.”

Varric frowned but otherwise dropped it. “I’ll go see if I can get Morris to rustle something up for you. But first, tell me. Your last letter mentioned red lyrium and Templars?”


	16. Rhana

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the huge lapse in updates. I was caught up in a whirlwind finale for 2015 and am finally getting back on top of things. By way of an apology though and to show my appreciation for all the support I've received here and on Tumblr, I'm doing a fanfiction giveaway!
> 
> To be in for your chance to win your own commissioned work check out my post: http://phantomhive3108.tumblr.com/post/137038464162/i-recently-passed-a-wonderful-follower-milestone

“Am I speaking too fast?” Dorian asked when he stopped pacing. 

The Tevinter drawl in his voice made Kane smirk.

“Sorry, I was distracted.”

“Ha! By my wit and charm I assume?” The smile Kane gave him made him begin to forget what he had been ranting about so fervently.

Kane remained leaning against the tavern’s outside wall with his arms crossed, fixing the mage with an inquisitive stare. “Amongst other things.”

Dorian quirked an eyebrow. “Oh? And pray tell what might they be?”

Kane pushed off the wall and stood to full height, making himself a head taller than Dorian.

“I just noticed you’re quite strapping.”

“Well that only takes eyes.” Dorian threw back. He suddenly shied away from the eye contact and turned away from the warrior.

Rhana came striding around the corner. “All clear ‘round back.”

“I doubt that means much.” Dorian grumbled as he strode off towards the tavern door.

“You really think this is set-up?” Kane asked his sister quietly.

Rhana shrugged. “Dorian seems to think so. Just be ready.”

They followed him into the pub house. The place was empty.

“Well this doesn’t bode well.” Dorian quipped.

“Dorian.”

The three of them turned to see an older man in heavy embroidered robes step out from behind the bar. Kane looked at his sister and mouthed a question.

Dorian stepped forward. “Father.”

“Called it.” Kane whispered with a grin. Rhana threw him a warning glare.

“So the whole story about a family retainer was all just a smoke screen?” 

The anger was thick in his voice and put the siblings on edge. 

“Then you were told.” Halward’s eyes locked onto to Rhana’s.

A pang of guilt shot through her when his face showed nought but sadness. “He had a right to know.”

He gave a small nod. “And I apologise for the deception. I never intended for you to be involved.”

“Of course not!” Dorian cut in. “You couldn’t be seen with the Inquisitor in Skyhold, could you? What would people think?” He threw his arms up and stalked away, stopping by a nearby table. “So what is it? An ambush? Kidnapping? Warm family reunion?”

Halward sighed and spoke directly to the siblings who waited awkwardly by the door. “This is how it’s always been.”

Kane shrugged and crossed his arms. “Answer his question. Talk.”

“Yes, father, talk. How mystified can you be by my anger?”

“Dorian, please. There’s no need-”

“I prefer the company of men.” Dorian let the statement hang in the air.

Whilst Kane cocked an eyebrow and gave a small smirk, Rhana leaned in as if awaiting the punch line.

“And?” She tried her best to withhold the humour from her voice and failed.

“My father disapproves.”

Rhana couldn’t help but chuckle. “Dorian, this isn’t exactly news.”

“And why should it be? Why should anyone care?” He rounded on his father again, his fury no less abated by his friends’ casual demeanour.

“This display is uncalled for.” His voice remained even but the discomfort was plain.

“Then why call me here?!”

“This is not what I wanted…”

Kane growled out his disapproval but Rhana sensed the unspoken words and her heart was seized by emotion.

“I was never what you wanted, father. Or had you forgot?”

Halward dropped his gaze to the floor.

“Is sexuality a big issue in Tevinter?” Rhana ventured when no words were spoken.

“Only if you look to live up to an impossible standard. Families marry in the hope to create the perfect mage, perfect body and perfect mind. The perfect leader.” The last words were dealt in his father’s direction with a potent bitterness. “Every flaw, every aberration, is deviant and shameful and must be hidden.”

“Then let’s go.” Kane offered.

“You’re right.”

They turned towards the door.

“Dorian, please! Listen…”

He spun on his heel. “Why? So you can spout more lies?! He taught me to hate blood magic. A ‘resort of the weak minded'. His words. But what was the first thing he did when his heir refused to play pretend for the rest of his life?” There were tears in his eyes now. “You tried to change me.”

Rhana stared in open horror. “You did what? To your son?” She caught sight of a seething Kane who was ready to break every bone in the Magister’s body and motioned for him to stay out of it.

“I wanted what was best for him.”

“You wanted what was best FOR YOU! For your fucking legacy! Anything for that.”

Dorian reached the door but Rhana’s hand blocked the way.

“Don’t leave it like this.” Dorian frowned, his blind anger wavering slightly. “You came for answers. Don’t leave without hearing what he has to say… You won’t forgive yourself.”

Once again he turned back to face his father, his voice lower this time. “Tell me why you came.”

“If I had known I would drive you to the Inquisition-”

“You didn’t! I did it because it’s the right thing to do. Once I had a father that knew that.”

“Once I had a son who trusted me. And I betrayed his trust. I only wanted to talk to him. Hear his voice. And ask for forgiveness.”

There it is.

Rhana smiled with relief. Dorian took a breath and looked to her and she nodded, their own words easily conveyed in just one look. She led her brother outside into the fresh air and left him with his father.

The door had barely shut when Kane exploded. “What the hell, Rhana?!”

“What?”

“You left him in there with that asshole?”

“That’s his father.”

“You heard what he did, right? How he tried to change him?”

“Yes, and I’m with you on that but-”

“Really? Because it doesn’t feel like it bothers you half as much!”

“Ok, calm down, Kane. I know Dorian well enough to know he needs closure. I’m not asking him to forgive Halward but at least let him figure out his own fucking emotions! Why the fuck do you care anyway? You’ve know him a week.”

“Because that man is a perfect example of a shit father.”

“Right, I get it. It’s touching, really, but perhaps keep your issues with our own family out of this?”

“That’s not what this is.”

Something in his tone- or maybe it was his eyes, she wasn’t sure- spurred on a thought. Rhana raised her eyebrows questioningly. “Then pray tell where is all this emotion for my dear Dorian coming from?”

He grinned as he watched the cogs turn in her head. “What? I can’t care for my sister’s friends without coming across as contrived?”

“Ha! This from the first-class brother who bedded half the keep? Not forgetting that included my boyfriend.”

“Oh come on! I didn’t even know you two were together. Besides, we’ve long since established it’s not my fault if he wanted to… experiment.”

She shook her head and smiled. “You really haven’t changed, have you?”

“If you mean I still enjoy the company of attractive people, then no.”

“Yeah, and maybe you should thank the gods that on top of all the shit we had to deal with, at least Father overlooked those ‘indiscretions’ of yours.”

“Oh well if we’re on the topic of indiscretions, my dearest sister, we might bring up some yours too.”

She feigned shock. “Me? Indiscretions? I know not what you speak of, you lying fiend!”

“Now this, I have to hear!” Dorian remarked from the tavern’s door. His eyes were swollen and he looked exhausted.

“Dorian!” Rhana stepped forward, hesitating before wrapping her arms around him. “Are you… alright?”

He offered a small smile. “Let’s speak of it later. I’ve got to say I’m growing quite sick of this town.”


	17. Mila

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's still time to get in on my Commission Giveaway over on Tumblr!
> 
> http://phantomhive3108.tumblr.com/post/137038464162/i-recently-passed-a-wonderful-follower-milestone

“What are we looking at?”

Cassandra jumped back from the sudden appearance of Hawke’s face by her ear. The blush spread faster than Isabela’s legs. She withheld that comment that came to mind and smirked to herself.

“They’re gonna do it! Look look! OH INTER-CEP-TION!” Sera cried out, griping the parapet wall tightly in anticipation.

Hawke followed her fixed gaze to the spot on the battlements where a red-faced Inquisitor tried to make herself as small as possible whilst Cullen rounded on an unsuspecting guard. She laughed as she watched the ex-Templar close in like a predator.

“HA! Looks like I got here just in time.”

Cassandra grunted out disproval but neither left the excellent spying spot, nor turned away.

“He was about to kiss her when that dufus came barrelling in!” Sera explained.

“He might actually kill him.” Hawke chimed in response, already drawn into the drama. She leaned forward on her crossed arms like a child staring up at the cookie jar.

“Cullen knows better than that… Although I may have also said that he would pick a more private place for such an encounter.” As much as Cassandra tried to act aloof, it was clear the scene riveted her.

“Oh no! Quizzy! Don’t leav- OH YES!” Sera leapt up as the Commander grabbed Rhana by the waist and drew her in for a kiss that made Cassandra mewl.

“GET IN CULLEN!” Mila froze when her cheering echoed across the hold.

The next moment the three of them ducked behind the safety of the wall like naughty children.

“I didn’t think he had it in him!”

Mila laughed. “Ahhh, I always knew he was softie but that… Oof!” She fanned herself with a hand. “Would have loved to see that side of him back in Kirkwall!”

“Ha! Oh just wait until Dorian hears this!! He’s going to be so jealous he missed it!” The elf leapt to her feet and darted away at a speed befitting only the highest of emergencies.

Hawke slowly came down from her high and turned her attention to Cassandra. After a moment’s awkward silence where the warrior looked everywhere but at her, Mila jumped in.

“So… Long time no see!”

“We’ve seen each other most days since we first met, Hawke.”

“Yeah, but we haven’t really talked properly and between Varric’s letters and the stories he’s told you, we’re pretty much old friends so…” She stood up and held her hand out to the warrior. “Long time no see.” She grinned.

Cassandra looked at the hand carefully before taking it with a meekness Hawke had not seen in her before. Was Varric right? Was Cassandra really so taken with the idea of being in her presence? This might get more awkward than she wanted.

“Yes. Long time.”

“I heard you were looking for me. Sorry about that…”

Cassandra just narrowed her eyes and Hawke began to understand why her dwarf friend could be so scared of this woman. “Is that a joke?”

“… No?”

“You do understand why we were looking for you, yes?”

“Uh… Yes? I mean I didn’t at first. Then I did. And I didn’t want to do that, so… Yeah. Varric isn’t to blame for any of it, really.”

The warrior rolled her eyes and turned away, walking slowly to a part of the battlements where they could look over the mountains that rolled beneath Skyhold.

“The fate of the world was at play… He hid you from us when we were looking for help.”

“And you think if you’d found me, things would have been any different?”

Cassandra paused and turned back to face the ‘hero’ she had chased for almost a year.

“Varric and I both thought you were out for my head… He was only protecting me. And then later... By the time either of us realised otherwise, it was too late.”

“Too late?”

Mila’s eyes dropped and she could only force a small smirk to mask the brutal truth behind her words. “I was never going to be the hero you wanted me to be, Cass. You were chasing a myth. Even if things had worked out differently you would have realised that sooner or later. That girl over there-” Mila gestured across the yard to where the Commander and the Inquisitor had just locked lips. “- She was the one you needed. You’re lucky she’s the one you got too.”

An uncomfortable silence fell between them whilst the wind whispered through the crenellations of the walls.

“I heard Varric’s stories about you, Hawke. Every version of them. And they all had something in common.”

“How big that motherfuckin’ Qunari was?” Her grin returned with gusto.

“Loyalty.”

“Oh come on, Cass. Let’s not get soppy!”

“I’m not getting soppy and you better listen up.” Her eyes were so serious, Hawke’s grin faded to a more appropriate width. “I’m not just talking about how loyal Varric was to you, I’m talking about how loyal you were to everyone who deserved it. To your friends, to the Mage’s plight, to the people of Kirkwall… You earned your title fair and square. I wasn’t hunting for a hero. We needed a Champion. With loyalty and a heart. And I know you have one of those too.”

“You’re going to make blush…” She said in a small voice.

“Ugh! Hawke. Stop it. I respect you… and… and I want to thank you for helping us now. It’s not too late.”

Hawke’s grin returned as she placed a hand on Cassandra’s shoulder. “Anytime, Cass.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why not? It’s cute. Like you!”

“I’m leaving.”

“Oh come on, Cass! We were just bonding! I won’t forget what you said! Do you still respect me?” The last words were yelled as Cassandra strode away leaving Hawke alone on the battlements for a short moment.

She leaned forward on the wall and breathed in deep. Unbidden thoughts began to creep back into her mind, as they tended to when she was alone and with no focus, so before they could take their hold she pushed off the wall and turned to walk straight into her friend.

“Maker’s ass, Varric! Why is everyone up here today?!”

“Everyone wants to be where you are, Hawke, you know that.” 

“All these compliments! I love this place!”

“You managed to charm me out of a death sentence yet?”

“Pretty much. I think with a bit of ass-kissing on your behalf she’ll be fine. Oh and as a tip, I’ve got a feeling she’s a sucker for cheesy romance.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What did I miss?”

“Aw! And deprive you of hearing all about it from Sera? Never!”

“Ha! I can’t wait for cards tonight.”

“You really really haven’t changed.”

He paused. She saw the look in his eyes and started figuring out how quickly she could escape the conversation. 

“Yeah, but you have…”

“Come off it, Varric. You’re imagining things! See, I’m still the same old troublemaker I used to be!” She added a twirl for dramatic emphasis.

Varric’s smiled sadly. “Where’s Fenris, Mila?”

He used their names. He never used their real names.

This time her smile truly faded. She felt the blood drain her face. Only for a split second. She brushed it off quickly and grinned at him again before turning away.

“He’s caught up in it all! I’m sure he’ll join us soon enough, I told y-”

“Where. Is. He.” The words were harsh but the tone was soft.

She kept her back to him.

They stood there whilst the wind continued its song.

Her words came out at a whisper in the hope that the wind would carry them away. If they weren’t heard they wouldn’t be true. That was the rule. Right?

Right?

But Varric heard them. And he did all he could. He reached out and took her hand from behind and he didn’t repeat them.

They’d been heard now. Mila knew it. Varric knew it. Even the wind knew it. Nothing could take those words back. The truth behind them settled into its rightful place in existence. Those words that had consumed her from the inside out.

There was no more hiding from them.

He’s dead.


	18. Ellaria

Countless days passed in a haze.

The opportunities to escape vanished time after time before they could be seized. Her blade remained hidden in her gauntlet, unbloodied. Anders received his daily beatings plus a few extra carried out of pure frustration by the mercenaries.

They had no idea what to do with her.

To kill her now would be a risk. Anders had to be delivered alive to Prince Sebastian himself. If he ever found out they had captured the Commander of the Grey, the mercenaries would likely quickly follow in Anders’ footsteps. To bring her in would amount to the same risk. Even worse though, to set her free would leave her available to hunt them down.

So they avoided the issue, slowly dragging their prisoners across the land towards Starkhaven. Each day that brought them closer to their destination frayed more nerves. Ellaria watched carefully from the sidelines, watching them unravel.

Whilst she was mostly kept away from the group and Anders, only in the company of their leader, Marcus, she was brought her meals by Howl. He would duck into the tent and dump her food within reach of her shackled arms and leave without a word.

She would use these moments to toy with him.

“Remind me your name again, I want to make sure I’ve got all my facts right when I talk to your Prince.”

“I can’t wait to see Starkhaven. I hear the gallows are quite impressive to behold.”

“When I write to the First Warden, do you think I should use the word ‘kidnapped’ or ‘captured’?”

“I couldn’t help but overhearing the case you made for slitting my throat. It was very persuasive… Shame Marcus doesn’t have the balls to do it.”

That last one got to him. He saw the twinkle in her eye and knew she was goading him but he let himself swallow it all up. She was sure he was going to move in on her in that instant but at the last second he moved away and made his way back to the camp.

She nibbled at her food only because she knew it was necessary to keep her strengths as opposed to from any hunger. From within Marcus’ tent, she had no sight of the camp but the canvas walls did little to keep the conversations from reaching her ears. Nevertheless, tonight, as it had been on previous nights, talk was suspiciously absent. The tension was palpable and she only hoped it would snap before it was too late. 

When Howl suddenly began barking out for Marcus, she realised this was it.

Voices raised and the distinctive scrape of metal on metal indicated blades were being drawn. They were coming for her. But Marcus was having none of it.

He blocked their path to the tent. She tracked the movement of feet through the slit at the bottom of the tent where the canvas only just grazed the ground. Howl spoke for the mutinous band of mercenaries. They were willing to take the risk. Marcus was not.

Ellaria’s blade slipped from her sleeve and down to her waiting fingers. She gave it an upwards flick and inserted it into her shackles’ lock. Zevran had spent entire evenings demonstrating the art of lock picking and she thanked whatever gods watched over her that those distant lessons still stuck with her. She found the sweet spot and applied pressure until she felt a satisfying click.

The restraints tumbled off her wrists and she leapt to her feet, keeping to a low crouch. She moved to the back of the tent and swiped her blade downwards, allowing her to slip out the back whilst the mercenaries were still preoccupied with each other.

My blades.

She had to find her weapons, or at least at this point in time, any weapon. She moved into the protection of the forest’s shadows a few yards from the camp and from here worked her way around the clearing. She was now directly south of Marcus’ tent, with a view of the back of the mutinous group. They were riled up and ready for a fight.

Howl stepped up into Marcus’ face. The boss head-butted him and he fell back clutching his nose. That’s when it kicked off. The men dived onto Marcus, the first impaling himself on his brandished sword. Marcus stepped back and the man fell to the floor with a final groan. The boss blocked the next few attacks and took down two more of his own men before Howl finally regained his feet and planted a dagger in his back. Marcus swiped at him and missed, slowed by the blow. The rest of the men finished the job in a scene of bloody butchery.

Ellaria hurried across the camp, aware that time was running short. Anders was bound to a tree not far from the campfire. His face was swollen and black in most places. There were cuts and lumps marring the strong bone structure beneath it, to the point that he was practically unrecognisable.

The sound of the fight had already begun to bring him out of unconsciousness.

“Anders.” Ellaria leaned forward and shook him gently as she whispered his name.

He groaned in response.

“Anders, we have to move.”

“G… G… Go.”

The fight behind them was coming to a close.

Ellaria reached behind him at tugged at his restraints. It would be a feat to get these ropes off of him quickly with only her small blade at hand.

“Go…”

“I just need to get these off of you.”

“WHERE THE FUCK IS SHE?!”

Anders used what little force he had to rock his bodyweight forward into her shoulder to get her attention.

“Y- you have… to go.” The strangled words spilt forth from blood caked lips.

Ellaria paused, looking him straight in the eyes. In that moment every survival instinct she’d grown in the last decade screamed at her to leave him. She had to get to Weisshaupt. She had to save Alistair. She had to leave.

“Go, Ellie.”

His eyes couldn’t open wide enough but she knew his eyes would be full of conviction.

“FIND ME THAT WARDEN BITCH NOW!”

Howl’s voice echoed across the camp. 

She still had no weapons.

“Now.”

 

“YOU! Check on that fuckin’ abomination!”

Her eyes turned back to Anders as he urged her to leave with all his might.

Ellaria placed her hand on her friend’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

She dashed off into the safety of the shadows just in time before the men descended on Anders.

“He’s still here, Howl.” One of them barked back across clearing.

The other nudged the mage with his foot. “She leave you behind, eh?”

Anders groaned, head lolling uselessly.

“Looks like she knew you were just a piece of shit after all. Ha!”

Howl came storming up to them. “She’s FUCKING gone!”

“What are we gonna do then?”

“How am I supposed to fuckin’ know?!”

“’Cause it was your bloody idea to start with!”

“Yeah! Now we have to figure out what to tell the Prince about Howl AND that bitch!”

“HEY! If you weren’t on board, you shouldn’t have joined us.”

“Well, maybe I changed my mind!”

“Well then maybe you should join the boss.” Howl shoved the man back.

A strangled scream tore through the night from the other side of the fire.

The three men looked up, shocked.

“You two, go check it out.”

“Why don’t you?!”

“Because I’m gonna watch this piece of shit. Now get on with it!”

The two men disappeared off, following the general direction of the cry. Howl knelt besides Anders and yanked his gag down.

“You better pray we don’t find your Warden friend, you know.”

Anders lifted his head up and did his best to look him in the eye.

“What a pathetic sight you are.” Howl poked his puffy face with a grubby finger. “I’m going to enjoy making you watch as we tear her pretty little insides from her stomach.”

“… They’re going to turn… on you… Just like you did to Marcus.”

The words came out as a whispered groan but they were plenty loud enough for Howl to take offense to. His fist drove right into the damaged flesh of his cheek.

Anders spit a loosened tooth at Howl in response. As he wiped the bloody spit from his cheek, the mercenary began to laugh.

“That the best you can do?”

The blood splattering across Anders’ face caught Howl by surprise. It took him a few heartbeats to realise it was his own blood driven forward by the blade now sticking proudly through his chest.

Ellaria pulled him firmly back onto her blade, leaning forward to whisper in his ear. 

“You didn’t think I’d leave without saying goodbye, did you?”

She dragged her blade back and let his lifeless body slump to the floor. She swung her blade in the palm of her hand, feeling comforted by the warm familiarity of the gold embossments on the hilt. She walked silently around the tree and swiped Anders’ ropes to shreds in one swift motion. He barely braced himself in time, stopping his face from driving into the dirt as he regained complete freedom of his body.

He was far too exhausted to cast healing magic, let alone support Justice.

“Can you ride?”

“I can barely stand, but you can tie me to the saddle if you must.”

Ellaria set to rifling through the mercenaries’ belongings, collecting rations of food and other useful items for their journey. Her hair was a mess, strands coming loose from the typical crown braid she wore, and her uniform was caked in a thin layer of dirt but she looked all the bit the Warden-Commander again- completely in control and taking charge.

“I hate to make this call but we should head south. Who knows how many men this arsehole Prince has looking for you. If we can make it back to Ferelden, we can then head through Orlais and stick to the Western mountain range. That should be far enough out of reach.”

She had filled two packs of travelling gear and set to prepping the horses, specifically the two she and Anders had been riding when this all went to shit.

“You should have left me…”

“What did you say?” She was still busy fixing the saddles.

“You should have left me, Ellaria.”

She paused, not daring to look back at him. “No.”

Anders had worked himself up into a sitting position now, clutching his side. “You’re adding months to your journey that’s already been delayed. I’m not worth it.”

Ellaria finished saddling the horses and finally turned around to face him. “I’ve made a lot of sacrifices to get to where I am now. I won’t make you one of them.”

Anders nodded. “We should get you to Weisshaupt, then.”


	19. Rhana

Rhana strode down the walkway, nose buried in a large tome. People stepped out of her path and generally cleared the way as she kept her eyes glued to the text.

There were some definite advantages to being Inquisitor.

She reached the place she was looking for and eyes still on the page before her she swung the heavy wooden door open.

“Hey, Dorian can you help me translate this I just can’t- MAKER’S FUCK WHAT THE?!”

The book went flying and her hands slammed over her eyes.

Dorian froze. “Oh um, hey…” 

“Hey sis!”

“KANE! What are you- Dorian! OH GODS!” She spun around, fingers still firmly shielding her eyes from the bare flesh before her.

“Well, you see when a man and man like each other…” Kane grinned and kept his hands wrapped around the mage’s waist. 

She stopped spinning and leaned her head forward against the doorframe, her forearm acting as a cushion. “Not what I was getting at!”

“Ha… Yes, well I haven’t really had the time to warn you. Nor did I think you’d come barging into my room without knocking.” Dorian finally disentangled himself from his lover and tugged the sheets over his crotch. 

Kane leaned back against the headboard, arms reaching back to brace the back of his head, looking like the ever-proud lion after a hearty meal.

“Oh! Inquisitor there you are I just needed you to sign- Oh my!”

“Josephine! Welcome!” Kane grinned.

Dorian dropped his head into his hands.

“So I take it…” Her soft Antivan accent remained polite even in the face of such awkwardness.

“Actually he’s the one who’s been taking it.”

Dorian groaned into his hands as Kane nudged him in the ribs and Rhana couldn’t help but snort.

“I am so sorry. We should-”

“Rhana! Is Dorian- sweet Maker!” Cullen stumbled back as soon as his eyes settled on the scene before him.

“Commander. Why not? Join us, why don’t you!”

“Dorian!” Rhana dropped her arm, half stifling a laugh.

“Not like that! Although…”

“I think we should leave.” Cullen started out the door.

“My legs won’t move…”

“Come along, Josephine.” Rhana put her arm around her diplomat and steered her away. She reached back for the handle and paused. “And, clearly we need to have words.”

The door closed behind their audience and the two lovers looked at each other.

“Did she mean you or me?” Dorian questioned.

***

Rhana leaned back in her chair, elbows on the armrests and slender fingers supporting her chin. Her hair was loose and ran down her back, shorter strand falling forward to cover her face as she sat in silence, pondering.

Josephine maintained her usual pacing, choosing, as she usually did in these War Council meetings, to remain standing. Leliana and Cullen sat in their own chairs reviewing the paperwork before them.

“So, Jadon has had the gall to ask me to sort this out?” She could barely contain her fury as she tried to process the letter Josephine had just read out.

“Specifically, he asks for the Inquisition’s help, though I doubt he would dare to involve us if he didn’t think you’d have a personal stake in the matter.”

“Which I don’t.” She snapped.

Leliana finally spoke up. “Actually, your family name is being represented here. We must be careful how we react. To let them continue to wreak havoc in Ostwick would reflect badly on you and thus the Inquisition.”

“That’s preposterous!” Cullen exclaimed. “No one could blame her for a petty feud across Thedas!”

“This feud is within the Trevelyan family. People have been blamed for much worse things using much more tenuous links than lineage.”

“I appreciate what you’re saying Leliana, but the way I see it, my involvement will simply make things worse.” She stood and leaned over the war table, hoping to find some answers in the iron figurines that illustrated the Inquisition’s movements. “I know for a fact, Jadon would have started this on purpose and whilst I hold no grudges against Osher, I’m sure her hands are far from clean too. Siding with Jadon would be tantamount to placating a spoiled child and siding with Osher would only make Jadon strike out at us.”

“And what could he possibly do?”

Rhana smiled. Cullen had been quick to paint his own negative image of Jadon and him jumping to her defence- however unnecessary- was still very sweet to her.

“However much of nuisance he is, Jadon is… the heir of the Trevelyan seat of power.” Josephine glanced cautiously over at Rhana, worried this might upset her.

“Josephine, you don’t need to mince your words. Kane and I willingly surrendered our claims to our father’s inheritance.”

She nodded, relieved. “Alright, then. We still need to consider that he will hold a lot of sway. Angering him could make him a small but persistent nuisance to our cause, and frankly if I may speak freely, we’re dealing with enough already without this.”

“Would you like me to send agents to take a closer look into the origins of this fight?” Leliana offered.

“No, I can assure you that won’t matter any more. Whatever started this is probably long forgotten and remembering it will do little to no good. Trevelyans are stubborn like that.” Rhana dropped back into her seat with a sigh.

Cullen placed the papers on the table. “What if we sat them down around a table? Let them sort it out between themselves?”

“That could work… If we can avoid a bloodbath”

“I could arrange for the talks to take place in Orlais. Remove each side from their seat of power and put them on neutral ground.” Josephine spoke whilst writing away on her scribe’s board.

“That or give Jadon what he wants.” Rhana raised an eyebrow questioningly at her Commander. “He wants the Inquisition to get involved? Let my men oversee these peaceful talks. I doubt anyone would cause a ruckus with the Inquisition as guards and witnesses.”

Rhana nodded and slipped into a short silence whilst she weighed up the pros and cons of each motion. “As much as I’d love to send our soldiers to knock some sense into these idiots, they’ve far better things to be getting on with. Send a small contingent to the talks in Orlais to show presence but ultimately let them deal with it.”

“As you wish. I’ll get to work to set that up.”

“Thank you, Josephine. Leliana, Cullen.” She offered a small smile as her advisers filed out. Only Cullen hung back, coming to sit on the edge of the table before her.

“Are you alright?”

She looked up at him with tired eyes. “Yeah. I’m just a little run down.”

“It’s been a bit non-stop since the ball, hasn’t it?”

“Quite.” She laughed and pushed herself up to her feet a coy smile starting to play on her lips. “Josephine showed me all the proposal letters we received for you, Commander.”

“Ugh.” He threw his head back and groaned. “Please tell me you burned them.”

She leaned in, her lips hovering over his jawline. “Put it this way: I’ve never been good at sharing.”

He smiled and tilted his lips down to her, hands coming up to cup her face. She melted against him, bodies pressing closer together in the heat of the moment. Cullen eventually pulled away from the kiss, although looked distinctly unhappy with himself to be doing so.

“We should… Um…”

Rhana considered pushing him over the edge in that moment, knowing that without her compliance, his will to resist moving forward with her would break. She didn’t want to rush him though. As eager as she was to move things forward, the recent revelation of his battle with lyrium withdrawal stood testament to the fact that he simply wasn’t ready.

She stepped back and adjusted the collar on her silk shirt, partly drawing his attention to what he was missing but mostly to busy herself in what was quickly becoming an uncomfortable situation.

“Yes, I should… Go… This way.”

Now flustered herself, she quickly left the room and headed for the main hall. Once there she kept walking, finding that her feet were carrying her towards Skyhold’s tavern. Maybe a drink would help alleviate the thousands of things her brain was struggling to keep up with. She waltzed in and found the place was already coming to life this late and sunny afternoon.

She spotted Varric by the bar.

“Hey, Red! Come for a drink?”

She sunk down onto the stool beside him, unbuttoning a couple of buttons on her embroidered leather waistcoat.

“Oh Maker, yes!”

“Ha! Cabot! A pint for our good Inquisitor, would you?”

Cabot nodded his greeting to her and set the mug on the bar. She took a hearty swig.

“That sort of day, eh?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe!” She took another sip. “Any word from Hawke?”

“Not yet, but Crestwood isn’t really a stable part of Ferelden right now so it’ll take her some time to find this Warden.”

“Another thing I’ll be dealing with soon enough, I’m sure.”

“I wish I could say different… You’ve got your work cut out for you, Red.” Varric turned back to his drink too.

“Thanks, Varric.”

“Heh. Sorry. But you know we’re all here if you need us.”

“That I do. Cheers to that!”

They clinked mugs.

“You know, you might have a lot on your plate and many more courses ahead of you too, but you should take the time to celebrate what you’ve accomplished too! I mean what you did at the palace? I’ve seen Hawke manage some pretty dangerous situations but never in a corset and heels!”

She laughed. “I begged Vivienne to let me wear a pant suit and she was having none of it!”

“No but seriously, Red. Reuniting Briana and Celene? Kudos.”

“Ah, all in a day’s work.”

He shook his head and smiled. “And here I thought they didn’t make ‘em like Hawke anymore.”

“She was every bit as impressive as you made her out to be, you know! I mean, mental, but yeah, impressive. I can see why Cassandra was so fascinated.”

“Hm, yes. She’s a good one…”

Rhana narrowed her eyes as she sensed something more but knew Varric and his protection over Hawke well enough not to ask any questions.

“Ah! There you are!” Dorian’s Tevinter drawl sounded behind her.

“NO! No! No no no!” She shielded her eyes again. “Not after this morning’s trauma. No! Stay away from me!”

“What happened this morning?” Varric quizzed as Rhana danced away from Dorian’s embrace.

“Oh yes, I forgot, Sera wasn’t there! See, Dor-“

He slapped his hand over her mouth before she could finish.

“As fond as I am of other people’s business, I like to keep mine private… At least for a little while.”

She wrenched his hand off her mouth. “You guys were all talking about me and Cullen kissing within the hour it happened!”

“As I said- your business is far more entertaining to discuss than mine.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

“You’re an idiot. No wonder my brother likes you.” This time she slapped her own hands over her mouth. “I mean…”

Varric erupted in laughter. “Sparkler and Bronto? Ha!”

“That one is definitely on me.” Rhana sat back down and drank more of her beer.


	20. Mila

“Don’t call him that…”

“Why not, that’s what he is. That’s why he left. He-”

“Anders!”

Mila could feel the emotions rising. She squeezed her fists tight and tried to hold it in. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.

“You’re not still going to defend him, are you?”

“He’s not a bad person. If you took the time to get to know him, you would know that.”

“I don’t need to. All I see is what he’s done to you. He’s a selfish son-of-a-”

The slap resonated through the bedroom.

For a moment it seemed the both of them were frozen in time. Unmoving. Mila breathed heavily as she reeled from her gut reaction. She waited for Anders’ to look up, to get angry or to apologise, to just say something. He didn’t.

“I don’t care what you think of him… I still believe in him.”

The crackling of the fire filled the silence until Anders’ finally turned his reddened cheek.

“And I believe you deserve better.”

She wanted to reach out and hold him. She wanted to feel his arms around her and feel the press of his lips against hers again. Their first kiss had been so charged. Full of pent up emotion and desperation. She’d felt guilty, yes, but it was completely overshadowed by the warmth she felt from having Anders near. To feel him finally relax and give in. It was a moment she would have given anything to live again.

But life is rarely so generous.

“You should go.”

He nodded slowly. She saw the hesitation in his movement. There was more to say but in the end he turned away. She closed her eyes, unwilling to watch him leave. The sound of his voice had them opening again.

“Perhaps… Your hand will tame him.”

He closed the door softly behind him and left Mila alone, tears threatening to spill forward in place of the words she wished she could share with him.

She stepped back and allowed herself to sink down on the mattress, fists still tight, holding back the wave of emotions that she was so used to hiding.

Duke, who’d been politely napping out of sight until now, lumbered up onto bed behind her. He placed his head on her shoulder and nuzzled her cheek. Mila smiled and reached to stroke the hound’s head.

“At least I’ve got you.”

Duke gave a small bark in agreement.

***

Mila’s staff slammed into the soft wet ground and flames leapt from the ground to swallow up the last of the undead that surrounded the cave.

“Popular fellow, aren’t you?” She called as she waltzed under the shelter of the rock.

“I can’t help it if they want my company.”

Mila grinned at the Warden before her as she pushed her sodden hood back and shook the droplets of water from her hair.

“Mila. You’re the contact, right?” 

She held her hand out in greeting which he took and gave a strong shake.

“Yes. Name’s Alistair. We’ve met before actually.”

Mila frowned a moment, trying to place his face. “Oh yes! You came for the party in Kirkwall!”

He chuckled. “Yeah, if that’s what you’re calling it.”

“Well, we ran out of cake pretty early on but blame that on the Qunari.” She blew her cheeks up and gestured a big belly.

“And here I was worried the Champion of Kirkwall wouldn’t be all you were talked up to be.”

She grinned at him as she made her way further into the cavern.

Mila tossed her wet over-clothes by the fire and settled straight into the camp Alistair had set up. He had made use of rocks and old planks of wood to set up makeshift tables, which he covered in maps and notes. The whole affair was crude but functional.

Alistair took a seat on the ground across the fire from her.

“Impressive work back in Kirkwall. I felt guilty leaving it all up to you but we really did have to keep moving.”

She waved her hand. “Pfft. Wasn’t your fight. Plus, we sorted it out, no?”

He smiled, her cheeriness infectious. “You hungry?”

“Always!”

He got up and moved to an open pack a few feet away. He dug out some bread and cheese for them both and brought it back over to the fire. Hawke barely hesitated before she began tearing into it. The road had been long.

“I recently received word from your brother actually…”

Mila kept eating. “My brother?” The words were slightly muffled by the bread in her mouth.

“… Carver?”

“Oh! Fuck! Carver! Oh yeah… Ha.” She laughed softly to herself, but the smile never reached her eyes. She’d forgotten about him. “Oh, um… So is he alright?”

Alistair glossed over her odd reaction. “Uh, yeah. When things started heading south, Ellie- uh, Warden-Commander Ellaria- dispatched some of our best people in every direction on the hunt for answers. Carver volunteered to head back over to the Free Marches. We don’t often receive word from our agents but when we do there’s a great delay so it’s not recent but, I mean,” He got back up again. “you can see for yourself. They seem to be doing fine.” He returned with a battered script in hand.

Mila took it from him, instantly recognising her brother’s messy scrawl. She smiled to herself relishing the familiarity in the handwriting and mannerisms in his way of writing.

Their squad had suffered on their journey but were otherwise all alive at the time of writing. They hadn’t found any trace of the answers Alistair had mentioned though.

“So this is all connected?” She handed the paper back.

“Yes.” His tone grew sombre. “I’m not going to lie to you… The Grey Wardens come out looking really bad in all of this… Which is why I need your help.”

“It’s why I’m here!” She grinned far and wide.

They talked long into the night, Hawke digging and asking the questions she needed to fully understand the extent of the situation. Alistair was patient and answered each and every one as accurately as possible. He took charge and was every bit the confident leader Ellaria believed he was. He had to be. He had to hold the fort until her return. Because she will return.

“We should get some sleep. I can take first watch.”

Hawke got to her feet. “No need. I’m not quite ready to sleep. You go ahead.”

“You sure?”

She hummed her response and grabbed her staff, heading for the cave’s entrance. She found a dry spot at the mouth of the cavern and down, knees up so that she could rest her arms on them. She took a deep breath and braced herself for the onslaught of emotion that lurked in the shadows waiting for a break in her life to creep in and continue consuming her.

Speaking to Varric had been both a relief and yet had worsened the heartache. The moment she had pushed into the darkest recesses of her mind so as not to relieve it again sprung forth every night now. 

Every night she relived it.

The Templar sword in his chest.

The blood.

His fall.

The lyrium blue in his scars fading away with his final breath.

She buried her head in her hands, black bangs brushing the back of her hands as she tried to stem the flow of tears once more.

Stop.

She wiped the tears away and took a shaky breath.

She was here for one reason and one reason only. To end this. All of it. She was ready to pay for it with her life.

After all, what else was there left to live for?


	21. Ellaria

The world was in complete turmoil.

Venatori were appearing everywhere in both Orlais and Ferelden, unchecked.

Red Templars wrought havoc wherever they went, unchallenged.

But nothing threw Ellaria as much as when word reached them that Wardens were raising a demon army.

A part of her didn't want to believe it. Wanted to say that rumours had simply gotten out of hand. It was ridiculous, no?

So they pressed on, without stopping or deviating. 

Anders began to vocalise his doubts when they found the northern mountain passage, which crossed the Orlesian border from Ferelden, blocked by snow and ice. His constant suggestions that they investigate the news grew tiresome and when they found themselves once again forced to travel further south in the search of passage into Orlais, Ellaria was ready to snap.

By the second day of travelling due south, it became apparent they would need to stop for additional supplies to aid them along their way. They would have to stop there. It was the only logical stop. She didn't say anything, but Anders could tell by the way she got more and more tense the closer they got that this was where they were heading. He kept quiet.

This was no grand homecoming.

It was hushed and kept under wraps from those who didn't need to know. 

A word whispered in the right ear and a coin dropped into the right hand got them into the castle with little hassle. 

Now the two of them waited patiently and in silence.

In fact Anders hadn't dare speak since the castle had come into view.

Ellaria began to wander around the room, hand trailing along the library's bookshelves. She smiled as she noted how little had changed about it. If she closed her eyes she could still see herself, a young feisty little thing, challenging her tutor.

Anders didn't miss the change in her behaviour since they walked through Highever's front gates.  
Despite all the tension she had built up on the road, once inside the walls she... relaxed.

Her head whipped around as the sound of children running merrily past the open door reached her ears. She walked to the door and almost walked straight into Fergus.

Her forehead collided with his nose and they both stumbled back with a groan.

"AH! Maker, Fergus watch where you're going!"

She scrunched her eyes closed as she rubbed the sore patch on her forehead.

"Ha..." Her brother massaged his thankfully intact nose, too stunned to reply.

He just stood there. Smiling.

"What are you looking at?"

"My sister..."

Ellaria paused. Her brother stood in front of her and she suddenly remembered how long it had been. Words fled her and the feelings she couldn’t quite voice swelled in her chest. She had little time to try to express her happiness before she was in his arms.

"Welcome home."

Home?

"Thank you, brother."

She eventually pulled back from his embrace to take a good look at him. She was shocked by how much he had grown to resemble their father. Maybe it was the beard.

“You should have sent word.”

“I didn’t know we’d be passing through here… Our plans all seemed to have fallen through.”

“I’m glad you’re here. Whatever the reason.” 

He smiled down at her the way he used to when they were kids, back when their main worry was being scolded by Nan. 

“We won’t be imposing on you long, brother. You must have enough to deal with.”

He took her hands in his and squeezed her fingers.

“You’re always welcome here. You don’t need to rush. Besides, you’ve yet to meet your nieces.”

Ellaria’s face broke into a smile. “My what?”

“They’re as fierce as you ever were in your youth. They ask for stories of their famous aunt, the Hero of Ferelden every night!”

She swallowed hard a strange feeling rising in her throat. Her eyes began to sting. “I’m truly no hero, brother…”

“Perhaps not in your own eyes, but to everyone else- especially your family- you are and forever will be.”

She turned her head to Anders and smiled, eyes wet and full of tears. “We really should stay and meet my nieces, shouldn’t we?”

He laughed. “Of course.”

The tears that rolled down her cheeks felt warm and alien. It had been years since she had allowed any emotion to reach her heart as it did now. All she could do was squeeze Fergus’ hands back.

“Excellent. I’ll have the chefs prepare something delicious for dinner! And-” His thumb brushed over her ring finger where a simple braided silver band adorned her hand. “Ella… Is this... Are you married?”

“Oh… Yeah… That. Yes. I am.”

He pulled her into another tight embrace.

“That’s fantastic! Congratulations! Mother would be so happy!”

He released her and slammed his hands down onto Anders’ shoulders.

“You two should have said! I don’t even know your name!”

“Oh uh… I’m not. No. That’s not me!” Anders stuttered bewildered and confused by the sudden attention.

“No, Fergus. That’s our friend Anders. Alistair is… elsewhere.”

“Alistair? Is that the lucky man?”

“Yes. He was a warden with me at Ostagar… We’ve travelled together ever since.”

He released Anders and turned to face her, his smile fading to melt into a frown. “A warden named Alistair? Could this be the same one that is working with the Inquisition?”

Her heart leapt into her throat. “Probably… What have you heard?”

“Ellaria… I fear there is much you may not be aware of. Come, we shall talk once you are settled.”

She caught him by the arm as he began to lead them out of the library. “Fergus. Tell me.”

He shook his head. “No. We will do this correctly. Please. You look exhausted.” His voice had taken on a different tone. The same authoritative tone her father employed when she became too argumentative. Fergus was now every bit the Teyrn of Highever their father had been.

***

Later that evening they sat in the main hall, where Fergus had the servants erect the long dining trestle table before the roaring fire. The very same table they used to eat at before their life had been thrown into complete turmoil.

Ellaria ran her hands over the wood before they sat down. It had been re-varnished but deep grooves and gouges were still etched into the grain.

“I did my best to have it restored but it was in pretty bad shape after the assault…” Fergus explained as he noticed her fingers dancing over them. “I think our men had used it to barricade the door.”

“… I remember.” She withdrew her hand and smiled. “I’m glad you saved it.”

The dinner was full of memories Ellaria hadn’t relived since she had left these walls behind. She talked into the night with Fergus and his new wife whilst Anders entertained the two young girls with colourful wisps of magic that danced above their heads. It had been years since she had found herself in such a position and there were many awkward silences as she watched this happy family try tooth and nail to make her feel loved.

Eventually, Felecia retired with the two girls in tow and left Fergus alone with his sister and Anders.

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“You can look through the correspondence. The Inquisition has been quite thorough in keeping the local regions abreast of developments.”

Ellaria dropped her head into her hands and tried to clear her mind to process this information.

“If Alistair’s there… Then all of this… The wardens… I don’t believe it. We can’t have fallen so low.”

A silence fell over them and Anders and Ellaria shared a long sad look.

“You have to go to him.”

She shook her head. “I can’t… I left him behind for a reason… He’s a good leader. Ferelden doesn’t need me.”

“Maybe it doesn’t.” Anders leant forward and put a hand on her shoulder. “But I’m willing to bet he does.”


	22. Rhana

“What the fuck was that?!” 

Mila shoved the Inquisitor off her.

“Me? I just saved your FUCKING life that’s what!” Rhana yelled straight back. 

“I DIDN’T ASK YOU TO!”

“You’re joking right?”

“You were supposed to LEAVE!”

“Why?! So you could be a fucking martyr for no reason? We got everyone out, didn’t we?”

“I don’t care! I-”

“Ladies! Ladies! Please.” Varric appeared between them forcing them apart. “Maybe we could continue this somewhere more private?”

They glared at each other until Varric put a hand on Mila’s arm to lead her away. Rhana turned and looked at the scene around them. The fighting had ceased and it seemed the demons had been defeated when she had closed the rift behind them. The courtyard was filled with both Inquisition soldiers and Wardens alike, each looking battered and exhausted. Bodies littered the ground and wounded groaned as healers rushed to their side. Most people had stopped to stare as Rhana and her people stumbled back through the open fade portal moments before. Alistair got to his feet with the help of Cole and Dorian. 

Her fury simmered down as she noticed everyone’s eyes on her. They held their breaths waiting for their Inquisitor to speak. Once again she felt the weight and burden of her title hang heavily on her shoulders as they looked to her whilst she was as dazed and thrown as they were.

“Looks like the Maker strikes again! Haha-ahhh! Aghh! Shouldn’t laugh just yet. Ow.”

Rhana caught Alistair by the shoulder to help him stand upright. “You alright there? You’re not going to yell at me too are you?”

“Heh. No. I’m much too cowardly for that. But it looks like no army for Corypheus. The Divine- or her spirit at least- was right.” He looked at the men and women who waited in anticipation for her to speak and to declare their victory. “Although you know that’s not how they’ll see it. They just saw their Inquisitor work another miracle.”

She smiled. “We both know they wouldn’t want to believe me if I told them truth.”

“Well, ‘the Inquisitor and her friends survive by the skin of their teeth’ hardly helps morale.”

“Inquisitor!”

Rhana turned to find one of Leliana’s men slowing to a jog. “Report, soldier.”

“The archdemon flew off as soon as you disappeared. The Venatori Magister is also unconscious but alive. Commander Cullen thought you would want to deal with him yourself.”

She couldn’t hold back the small smile that came at the mention of her Commander’s name. He’s alive at least. A small part of her wished to run there and then to find him but the soldier continued.

“As for the Wardens… Those who weren’t corrupted helped us fight the demons.”

One of Alistair’s own men stepped up and put his hand to his chest. “We stand ready to make up for Clarel’s… tragic mistake. Alistair… You are the senior surviving Grey Warden. What do we do now?”

“In all fairness, Warden-Commander Ellaria is still out there but… for all intents and purposes I see what you mean. But the decision is still not mine.”

He turned and looked at Rhana expectantly. She saw the flicker of uncertainty and suddenly worried that a decision she thought would be obvious might not be as well received as she might have imagined. But she had grown up with the tales of the Grey Wardens. She had revered them and respected them for what they had done during the Fifth Blight. Not to mention Alistair was a good man who spoke highly of his warden wife. She hardly needed another hero out for her skin.

“You stay and do whatever you can to help.” She spoke to Alistair but turned to face her awaiting audience next. The immediate murmurs died down as she raised her voice. “The Wardens are an order worth saving. I won’t deny you are still vulnerable to Corypheus and possibly his Venatori, but there are plenty of demons that still need killing. Make up for the wrongs that were committed here tonight. Show the world you are not the monsters that they would make you out to be!”

The Grey Wardens bowed their heads to her words. Another stepped forward.

“Thank you, Your Worship. We will not fail you now.”

She turned back to Alistair who seemed to be looking for his own words.

“Rest, Alistair. We will talk more of this and what needs to be done when we return home.”

He smiled. “Agreed.”

***

Rhana made her way through the Inquisition’s camp with only one goal in mind. Find a bed and pass out before someone else wanted something. That or punch Hawke in the face for being an idiot. Both would work for her. 

“There you are.”

She turned in time to see Cullen striding to her at full pace. Much to her surprise his arms were around here in a flash and their metal chest pieces clunked together as he held her close, one arm around her back and the other cradling her head as she nuzzled her face into his neck.

“You’re alive. I was so worried. When they said you disappeared, I didn’t know what to do.”

She smiled and pulled her head back. “Of course, I am. You didn’t think I’d leave you to reap the glories of this battle for yourself, did you?”

Cullen laughed, the worry still etched in his face. Shock quickly replaced it as he remembered they weren’t in private and his hands were still around her. He dropped them to his sides and blushed.

“I… Uh… This way, Inquisitor.” He took her by the hand and led her through the lines of tents away from the prying eyes of gossip-mongering soldiers. “I just wanted a moment with you. Just to see you.”

“Well I’m all yours.”

“And I couldn’t be happier.” 

He leant down and took her face in his hands as their lips met. Rhana moaned quietly into the kiss as his hand tangled itself in her hair. She stepped up to him and got as close as their armour would allow and continued to return the kiss with fervour. Eventually he released her and pressed his forehead against hers.

“I couldn’t do this without you.”

She looked up into his eyes, wondering what he was referring to. She reached up and brushed her thumb along his jawbone.

“I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”

He smiled and pulled away completely leaving her slightly breathless.

“I know. And I’d like to steal you when we get back to Skyhold. There are some things I’d like to say that… are probably not suited to a war camp.”

“Alright. I look forward to it.”

He took her hand and pressed his lips to her fingers.

“I’ll leave you to retire.”

Cullen strode back towards the camp and left Rhana to walk the perimeter of the camp until she reached her tent. A campfire had been erected in front of it where Kane was currently sitting, eyes focused on the object in his hands.

At her approach, his head snapped up to attention and he slipped the object into his pocket.

“The hero returns!”

He welcomed her by the fire with open arms, which she collapsed into. He wrapped his arms around her and she dropped her head onto his shoulder.

“I told you, you should have taken me with you.” He said as he placed a kiss on the crown of her head.

“I was fine. Cullen needed you on the battlefronts.”

“Which was boring as fuck, by the way. Not even enough demons to call it a Tuesday.”

She laughed into his shoulder. “I may or may not have intended that…” Her voice took on a childish tone in a vain attempt to shield herself from his temper.

He simply chuckled. “I thought I was the big brother. Aren’t I supposed to take care of you?”

“Meh…” She pulled her head up and yawned. “Shouldn’t you be with Dorian anyway?”

“Been there, done that. Left him passed out.”

“Ew!” She shoved him away and he laughed. “Boundaries! Maker!”

“You asked.”

“You’re such a child.” She stared into the fire and yawned again. “What was that thing you were playing with? You know, the one you tried to hide when I got here.”

He smiled. “Always been nosy haven’t you?”

“Like a good little sister should be.”

“Hmph.” Kane reached into his open waistcoat and pulled out a golden cuff bracelet. “One of the merchants who set up at the outpost had it on display… I got it for Dorian.”

She couldn’t swallow her surprise in time. “Seriously?!”

He frowned and suddenly felt quite defensive. “Yeah…” He looked down at it. “Do you think he’ll like it? It’s not as fancy as the other stuff he has but… Plain gold suits him. I mean his skin tone. Suits his skin t-”

“Oh, give it here.” She snatched it from his fingers and examined it.

He waited patiently whilst she turned it every which way, and anxiously ran his hands through his auburn hair.

“I don’t have to give it to him, I just thought…”

“I like it.” She held it out for him. “He will too.”

“Oh… good.” He cleared his throat and tried to lower his voice.

They fell into silence.

“So… Since when does Kane Trevelyan give gifts to his lovers?”

He groaned into his hands. “Ugh. Please don’t. It’s not like that.”

“It’s not? So you’re just screwing my friend for fun?”

“Well yes…”

She glared at him.

“I mean I do like him… I just. You know…”

“Enlighten me.”

“Ugh! Rhana! Just leave me alone. I’m fully capable of fucking this up myself.” He frowned at the flames before them.

Rhana’s eyebrows shot up and smile played on her lips. “Oh so that’s what this is.”

“I asked you not to.”

“Oh come on! Let me enjoy this moment! The legendary Kane has fallen in love! Oooooohhh!!”

It was his turn to shove her and she was too tired to fight back so she fell to ground. She rolled onto her back and giggled.

“How quaint!”

“Stop that.”

“Oh please just let me have this one. I fought a bloody dragon, fell into the fade, and nearly got punched by the Champion. It’s been a long frigin’ day.”


	23. Mila

“I am NOT apologising to her!”

Mila stormed up the stairs to Skyhold’s main hall.

“I don’t even want to be here. I came back because you asked me to, Varric. One night and I’m gone.”

“Mila, please.”

She barged through the door leading to the rooms above the courtyard where she’d been temporarily housed before. “Don’t ‘Mila please’ me! I didn’t need saving!”

Varric followed her sombrely. “She’s not at fault here…”

Hawke stopped dead in her tracks and turned on him. “I am not apologising.”

She let the words hang in the air until he sighed.

“Very well… I guess I’ll just leave you to it then…”

She watched him turn on his heel and walk away, head bowed. A part of her wanted to run after him but the other part was too frustrated that he had taken her side. That bloody Inquisitor.

Mila continued on her way, mumbling under her breath. “She’s so perfect. So level-headed. So noble. SOOO bloody selfless! BLAH BLAH BLAH!”

She slammed the door shut with a bang and threw her pack across the room. It landed with a thud and a clatter but she didn’t care at this point. She looked around the room and found herself alone for the first time since the eve of the battle. Her eyes slid over the furnishings and stone walls decorated with the Inquisition’s insignia.

All in one moment she felt all the adrenaline that had kept her on her feet for so long give way and be replaced by all the emotions she fought back and she just screamed. She screamed until her lungs were empty and throat was raw. She screamed until her knees gave way and her fists clenched so hard, her palms became slick with blood from the cuts her fingernails dug. She screamed until she couldn’t feel. Or rather, until it was all that she could feel.

The tears that ran down her face were hot and seared her cheeks as they ran down freely. She felt herself begin to cough and choke until the sobbing fully set in. Her mind twisted and turned continuously so that no thought could stay long enough to hold onto. Images flashed through her mind.

Fenris.

The way he used to smile.

The moment he fell.

His hands on hers as they talked into the night.

Her bloody hands as she cradled his body.

His body against hers as they slept.

The nameless grave she gave him.

The fade.

The end.

It was there. Right there!

The Inquisitor’s firm grip on her wrist.

She was supposed to die there.

She was supposed to die…

Eventually there was nothing left. She was numb. Her mind was full of fog and devoid of any want or need.

She absent-mindedly wiped her hands on her trousers ignoring the sting from the wounds left there.

She sat there for what felt like hours until the darkness swallowed her whole.

Her dreams were vivid. Uncomfortably so. Yet strangely calm.

She dreamt of Fenris. Of her friends. She dreamt of the Hanged Man and the nights spent there. She dreamt of her hound, Duke and how he liked to chase small mice. She dreamt mostly of the colour blue though. Everything was lit with a tinge of blue. A warm blue. The kind of blue that makes you feel safe. She breathed it in and let it fill her lungs. She breathed it until she felt her limbs relax.

When she finally woke she was in her bed, sunlight streaming through the shutters.

She groaned as she rolled over onto her back, hands darting to block the light from her eyes. Everything hurt. Her limbs ached and her headache thudded against the inside of her skull. She tried to remember getting into bed but drew a blank. She was also down to her small clothes so started praying very hard she had somehow managed to undress herself in the haze of it all.

Then as the confusion started to settle, she felt the emotions crawl back up from her stomach and into her throat. She took a deep breath as the tears returned.

“Fuck this…”

She clenched her teeth together and blinked the tears away. Breathing shakily though the returning feelings.

She closed her eyes and focused only on her breathing until she slipped back into sleep. Her dreams were quiet and faded this time, allowing her to rest and recover without strain.

Mila awoke this time to the sound of hushed voices outside her door.

The headache still plagued her but thankfully her limbs felt lighter.

She pushed herself up to a sitting position and looked around the room. Someone had definitely been in here. Her clothes and armour were neatly arranged on the armchair, a platter of food lay untouched by the bed along with a couple of vials of… something on the bedside table.

She had no idea how long she had been out so it was fair to assume Varric had probably come looking for her. Gods, she hoped no one else had found her in that state.

The voices outside had stopped and she heard footsteps coming towards her door.

Not feeling ready to deal with the fallout of what had happened she slipped back down under the covers with her back to the door and closed her eyes as it opened.

“She still sleeping then?”

Varric.

“Yes… I haven’t seen her like this since…”

Wait. No…

“Her mum. Yeah, I remember.”

“Look I can keep trying to soothe her dreams but… I don’t exactly think it’s the best idea for her to wake up and just… find me here.”

It can’t be.

“I dunno… Maybe you’re just the person she needs right now.”

“Yeah but I’ve been wrong about that before.”

Anders…

A sob slipped out from between her lips. They fell quiet.

She whispered his name not daring to turn around.

He answered.

She cried into her pillow as he took a step towards her bedside.

“I can leave…”

“Don’t… you… fucking dare.” She managed between sobs.

Anders stared down at her where she lay, her back still to him. He’d been nursing her for the last two days since they had walked into to find her collapsed on the floor, but suddenly he felt overwhelmed and scared to make physical contact.

She continued to sob into her pillow and he reached out and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. The sobbing only got worse when he did. He turned back to Varric but only saw the door being pulled shut behind him.

“It’s really you… Isn’t it?”

He sank down onto the bed behind her.

“It’s really me. Promise.”

“Please don’t leave…”

“I… I’m not going anywhere.”

Her hand reached back to settle on his as the crying continued.

After a few moments, Anders swung his legs slowly onto the bed and lay down beside her wishing he could think of something other than inducing sleep to give her some respite.

Slowly her hand dragged his down so that his arm was around her and he was forced closer to her. From there he did the only thing the felt natural. Take her into both of his arms and hold her back against his chest. Her sobbing slowly started soften, slowing with her breathing as he held her.

Time became irrelevant as they lay there. All that mattered was the he was there. Grounding her. 

Putting one little piece of aching heart back where it should be.


End file.
